The Cauldron
by Duncan Johnson
Summary: **New chapter added - 05/22/03** Buffy has her work cut out when Sunnydale becomes the main attraction for creatures out of Celtic myth seeking an ancient artefact. Can the Scooby Gang find it first? Set during season five. In progress...
1. Prologue

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Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer was created by Joss Whedon and is copyright Twentieth Century Fox. The property is used without permission. This is a non-profit making work of fan-fiction.

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Buffy the Vampire Slayer

The Cauldron

By Duncan Johnson

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This story is set during the first half of season five.

Prologue

Few people visited Sunnydale's cemeteries after dark. Few living people, that is. Few residents could have told you why that was, however. It was simply the way things had always been.

Ironically, one of the residents who could have explained things was currently flouting this particular unwritten rule.

Rupert Giles, former librarian and current owner of _The Magic Box_, was crouched in front of one of the headstones. He clasped a single rose between thumb and forefinger, a thorn tearing at his skin. Delicately, Giles set the rose on top of the grave.

The name on the stone read 'Jenny Calendar'. It was not her real name, but it was the name he had known her by, the name by which her friends wanted to remember her. Jenny was the woman to whom Giles had lost his heart and he had never managed to get it back.

The wind picked up, tugging at his hair. The rose rolled off the grave and onto the grass so Giles bent down to retrieve it. A twig snapped.

'Giles, stay down!'

Buffy Summers vaulted the headstone and planted herself squarely between Giles and the approaching vampire. She spun the stake in her hand as an Old West gunslinger might twirl his pistol.

'The Slayer,' the vampire drawled. His voice sounded as if he had a throat full of crushed glass.

'Well, d'uh. Surprised to see me?' Buffy circled left, trying to draw the creature away from Giles. 'Don't you people ever learn? This is my town.'

'Buffy?' Giles said, peering over the headstone.

'What?' she asked, then added, 'Oh,' as she saw the other three vampires approaching. 'They hunt in packs now? Whatever happened to the good old days, y'know, one vamp, one slayer, toast?'

'I think you may have answered your own question,' Giles commented.

'Did I ask for backseat slayage?' Buffy demanded.

The first vampire clamped his hand on her shoulder and spun her around. Buffy jabbed her stake up under his rib cage and watched him crumble to dust.

'Who's next?'

Two vamps, one male, one female stalked towards her like two feral cats. With their pale skin, black hair, green eyes and narrow faces, they looked alike enough to be twins. Buffy did not care one way or the other.

The male lunged at her, all fury and no finesse. Buffy blocked his strike with her forearm and then tripped him. As he fell, the vampire tangled his feet around Buffy's ankles, bringing her down with him. The female dived on top of her.

Buffy tried to roll clear, but the woman managed to land on top of her arm. Buffy's wrist cracked against the hard edge of a grave and her stake fell from her fingers. The male snatched it up. He licked his fangs as he approached the prone slayer.

Buffy slammed both her feet into his abdomen and, when he doubled over, slammed the heel of one boot into his face. As he staggered away, Buffy turned her attention to the female. Having established a firm grip on Buffy's arm, she bared her teeth as she prepared to tear out the girl's throat. Buffy's free hand scrabbled spider-like across the grass searching for something, anything. The vampire leaned in close and licked Buffy's throat.

'Mmm,' the vamp purred. 'Have you any idea how good you taste? Almost too good to eat.'

'Then let's don't and just say we did, huh?' Buffy retorted. Her voice was flippant, but her heart was pounding. Her hand kept searching, fingers racing until they closed on something useful.

Buffy slammed the rock into the vampire's temple. The pressure on her arm eased and Buffy snatched it back, executing a back flip to get to her feet.

Trying to keep an eye on the two vampires, Buffy examined her wrist. It was sprained, possibly broken. With her Slayer powers it should heal quickly, but the hand would be no good to her tonight. She fumbled with her left hand as she tried to draw her spare stake.

'Buffy!'

She looked up. Giles had his back to a headstone. The fourth vampire was closing on him, muscles rippling beneath its tattered jacket.

'Here, catch,' she shouted, hurling the stake to her Watcher.

Giles caught it one handed and slammed it into the vampire's chest.

The vampire laughed. 'Guess you missed.'

Without missing a beat, Giles grabbed the stake with both hands, pulled it out and then stabbed again. The vampire exploded in a cloud of dust.

'Guess not,' he whispered.

Buffy was unarmed and injured, not to mention outnumbered. The twins circled her, the male darting forward, taunting her with her own stake.

'How's it feel to be on the receiving end for a change, pretty, pretty,' he mocked.

Buffy shrugged. 'If you manage to hit me, I'll let you know.'

'Oh, I'll hit you, my pretty,' the vampire claimed. 'I'll hit you and I'll cut you and I'll leave you here, blood pooling at you feet, food for the jackals.'

'Blah, blah-bitty-blah,' Buffy replied. 'You bad guys do love the sound of your own voices. And do we actually have jackals in Sunnydale?'

'Does it matter?' the female asked, her breath hot on Buffy's ear.

Buffy tried to turn, but the female vampire clamped her hands around her upper arms, holding Buffy in place.

'Game over, pretty,' the male said, stake leading the way as he lunged forward.

Buffy dropped to her knees, using her momentum to flip the female vamp over her head. The stake impaled her in the back, the strength of the thrust carrying it through her ribs and into her heart. Buffy felt the pressure on her arms ease as the vamp disintegrated.

'A word to the unwise,' Buffy said to the sole remaining vampire, 'don't play with your food.'

She smashed the heel of her hand into his nose. Had he been human his face would have been covered with blood, but the demon had none to shed.

Enraged, the vampire charged forward, lashing out with clawed hands. Buffy managed to block his strikes, but found herself forced further and further back.

'Not so flip now, are you?' the vampire said. Buffy could not argue.

The vamp crouched and sprang, launching a flying kick at Buffy's head. 

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How come all vampires know kung fu, Buffy thought as she instinctively raised her right arm in a blocking move. _Is there an all night dojo I don't know about_?

The vampire impacted with her arm and the pain shot through her injured wrist. She cried out and failed to react in time as the vampire grabbed her and slammed her against a tree.

'Playtime's over, pretty,' he said as he prepared to feed.

'Got that right.'

A crossbow bolt whistled through the air and struck the vampire in the back. It hung unsupported in the air for a moment as the vampire dispersed around it, then fell to the ground at Buffy's feet.

'Miss me?' Riley Finn asked.

'Next time, could you try to arrive before the nick of time?' Buffy complained, but her actions belied her words as she put her arms around her boyfriend. Riley silenced any further complaints with a kiss.

When she came up for air, Buffy glanced round to see if Giles was okay.

He was standing over Jenny's grave, his eyes fixed on the ground.

His rose was just a red and green smear in the dirt.


	2. Can't Stand Losing You

Chapter One - Can't Stand Losing You

_A storm was brewing, but the sky was clear._

_The wind a whisper, bearing tidings ill,_

_Swept through the dark woods of Broceliande,_

_Through Arthur's court it danced and spread its woes_

_And out it sailed across Tintagel, till_

_It espied where Merlin lay at rest._

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_Thus Morgan, fair of eye if dark of heart,_

_Settled in the branches of a tree_

_Where swallows nested, and in silence watched_

_Her mentor, who, in leafy shade,_

_Waited for his protege, his love._

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_In welcome burst the swallows' song as down_

_The flow'ry path came Nimue_

_And Morgan wished that in amongst the flowers_

_Were snakes t'would rise and strike her heel upon._

_But free of harm to Merlin Nimue came_

_And in his arms he took her, though yet plain._

_Within her golden hair he planted kisses_

_As if t'were sweetest earth in which to sow._

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_This man - a word too small for such as he -_

_A man who kings had made and unmade both_

_Who had unearthed the mighty sword of Lugh,_

_Excalibur, so called by mortal men_

_Was now engaged in tryst with such as she?_

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_A blade pierced Morgan's heart and that hot pain_

_Opened up the organ like a flower_

_Bursting into bloom and yet the wind_

_Can crush a flower and be free_

_Of even slightest stabs of conscience._

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_And to the wind she cast her wordless cry,_

_Her grief and anger mingling as one, _

_Even as she watched her mentor give_

_That tenderest of caress to Nimue's cheek,_

_She cursed her name and vowed upon them both_

_The vilest of revenges she could dream _

_And that in nightmares they might touch upon._

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_And as she cried into the air there rose_

_A murder of crows, their feathers black as pitch._

_Rising from all trees within the wood_

_They swarmed until they blotted out the sun._

* * *

'Giles, are you okay?'

Giles was still staring at the crushed remains by his feet. There was a gash in his forehead and blood slowly trickled down towards his eye, but he seemed not to have noticed.

Then he moved.

Savagely, he kicked at the remains of the rose. Then he kicked again and again and again until they were completely obscured beneath the dirt.

'Bastards,' he cursed quietly. 'I'm sorry. I'm so very, very sorry.'

'Giles?' 

Buffy took a step closer. She was a bit on edge. Her Watcher's behaviour was freaking her out more than the vampires had. At least she knew how to deal with them.

'Everything's okay now, Giles, so why don't we just get out of here. Riley'll drive you home.'

'Everything's not 'okay',' Giles muttered. 'Every time I try and do something important'

His voice, already frayed, trailed away into nothing.

'It was just a flower,' Buffy commented when it was clear he was not going to say any more.

'Buffy,' Riley warned.

'Just a flower,' Giles repeated. 'Yes, it was 'just a flower', but it was her flower and they took it away from me. It's this bloody place. It taints every good thing you try and do. We had a real shot at happiness. Do you know how rare that is? Another time, another place we could have been happy together. Here, not a chance, not a bloody chance. If it wasn't for Angel'

'Buffy, don't,' Riley warned again, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Buffy knew he was right, knew that she should keep quiet, but talk of Angel was like probing an open wound.

'Hey, Angel wasn't himself at the time,' she snapped. 'I mean, okay, he was like his old self, but not like his cursed 'Angel' self. You can't blame him for the curse.'

'No,' Giles said tonelessly, 'I can't.'

Buffy's face collapsed and she stumbled, almost fell, backwards into Riley's strong arms.

'You blame me,' she whispered. 'You do, don't you? You blame me for breaking the curse. You think all of this is my fault.'

Giles looked up, his face a distorted mirror of Buffy's own anguish.

'BuffyI don't'

But Buffy was not listening.

'All this timeYou never said anything, but all this time you've been thinking it. You've been blaming me for what's been happening.'

'I'

Giles reached out for Buffy. She turned and ran.

'Buffy, wait!' both Riley and Giles cried out in unison.

'Stay here,' Riley told Giles as he raced off in pursuit.

Buffy had not gone far. Her legs would not support her. She was curled up, leaning against the base of a tree, her eyes filled with tears she would not shed.

Buffy, listen,' Riley began. He placed a hand on Buffy's arm, but she flinched under his touch so he withdrew it. 'Look, I haven't known Giles for as long as you have and I don't claim to understand much of what you two were talking about back there, but I reckon I know enough to know he didn't mean what he said.'

Buffy did not answer.

'You could go back and talk to him,' Riley suggested. 'Clear the air. You'd feel better for it.

Still no answer.

'On second thoughts, maybe it would be best if we waited till the morning.'

Convinced Buffy was not going anywhere, Riley made his way back to where Giles was waiting.

'Is she..?'

'She's fine,' Riley assured him. 'Just a little shaken up, that's all. I'm guessing you both are.'

'Well'

'Listen,' Riley continued, 'things were said which I'm guessing nether of you meant and that you're both regretting already. It happens. You'll get over it. I think the best thing now is for you both to get some rest, then you can both make your apologies in the morning.'

'Yes, that might be for the best,' Giles conceded.

'I was kind of hoping you'd say that. I'll make sure Buffy gets home safely.'

'Thank you,' Giles said as Riley turned away. 'If there's anything I can do.'

Riley turned back.

'Yes, there is. Never, ever, mention Angel again while I'm in earshot.'

* * *

The moon was already setting when Giles parked his convertible. He glanced at his watch. If he was lucky he could still snatch a few hours sleep before he was due in at the magic shop. Maybe he should call in sick. Anya could cope by herself. On second thoughts, maybe that wasn't such a great idea. 

He strode across the courtyard trying to pull his keys from his jacket pocket. They had snagged on the lining and he had to use his other hand to pull the jacket taut while he worked them free. The lining tore and the keys leapt up out of his hand and onto the ground. Muttering a curse, he dropped to his knees and fumbled for them in the dark. Finally, his questing fingers found them and he drew himself upright.

There was a rose pinned to the door in front of him. His door.

'Hello?' he called out. 'Is this someone's idea of a joke? Hello?

There was no answer, but then he had not really expected one. He was still staring at the rose and feeling increasingly foolish for it. _Come on, Rupert_, he thought, _get a grip on yourself_. With more willpower than he cared to admit, Giles inserted the key in the lock and opened his front door.

Music floated out to him from within. Puccini. _La Boheme_. Once upon a time it had been one of his favourite operas. It had been a love affair built up over several years as his tastes broadened beyond the rock of his student days. It had been shattered in mere moments. 

Cautiously, he descended into his home. He had to keep reminding itself that it was his home. Someone else had been in here, had intruded on his private space and everything that had been familiar and comforting was now dangerous and alien.

Someone had left a bottle of red wine on the table along with two wineglasses. Giles was not much of a wine drinker - unless he had company - but he did feel that he knew his wines so he picked up the bottle to see what it was. There was no label, just a piece of yellow paper stuck to it, folded into three. Replacing the bottle, he removed the note and opened it. It contained only one word, written in a flowing script with black ink. 'Upstairs.'

Giles dropped the note as if it burned his fingers.

He should get out of here. Now. Call the police. Call Buffy. At the very least, he should look for a weapon. But he did none of these things. Instead, he crossed to the staircase and was unsurprised to find lighted candles decorating every step. He began to climb, crushing beneath his feet the roses that had been carelessly strewn across the stairs. 

He should have been scared. Apprehensive at the least. His heart should have been pounding, blood thundering in his ears, his whole body tensed for action. But he was calm and relaxed. Everything seemed so unreal. It was as if he was wading through a dream and as such had no connection to the world he was inhabiting. He continued to climb.

His bedroom was opposite the staircase. The door was open and he could see into the room beyond. There was a woman lying in his bed. She was lying with unnatural stillness, her body laid out like a statue. Or a corpse. Her face was tilted towards him, eyes closed, and he recognised the puckish, gypsy look framed by the dark hair.

Now, finally, his heart skipped her beat. Her eyelids fluttered and he was across the landing and at her side before he had a chance to draw breath.

Jenny Calendar sat up in the bed.

'Hello, Rupert,' she said.


	3. Spirits in the Material World

Chapter Two - Spirits in the Material World

'But Mom,' Buffy and Dawn whined in unison.

Joyce Summers had had two decades to build up an immunity to her daughters' protests.

'No buts from either of you,' Joyce commanded. 'Dawn needs someone to look after her.'

'No, I don't,' Dawn insisted.

'Yes, you do,' Joyce and Buffy responded before returning to their own discussion.

'Dawn needs someone to look after her,' Joyce repeated, 'and I can hardly take her to the gallery with me. She can go with you. Think of it as quality sister time.'

'Without the quality sister,' Dawn muttered. Joyce glared at her. 'Okay, okay, I'll get my jacket.'

'But Mom,' Buffy persisted.

'I thought we agreed no buts,' Joyce said.

'No, you agreed. Our feelings didn't enter into it.'

'Maternal prerogative,' Joyce explained.

'Whatever. Today was supposed to be special. Time out for the Scooby gang.'

'And it will be special,' Joyce responded. 'Time out for the Scooby gang _and sister_.'

'You're not going to budge in this, are you,' Buffy deduced.

'That's my girl. Doesn't miss a trick.'

'Flattery isn't going to get you anywhere,' Buffy retorted.

Joyce opened the fridge door.

'Well then, maybe this might.'

She lifted a stack of Tupperware containers out of the fridge and placed them on the kitchen counter.

'Bet you didn't even think to get any food for this afternoon, did you?' Joyce said.

'Well, I have been kind of busy.'

'And that's what moms are for anyway.' Joyce laughed. 'So, am I forgiven?'

Buffy folded her arms. 'I can be angry and grateful at the same time you know. I am a truly multi-talented Buffy.'

'Just take care of Dawn for me,' Joyce said, 'then you can be any kind of Buffy you want.'

The doorbell chimed.

'I've got it.' Dawn's voice drifted in from the hallway.

'Hey, kid,' Riley said as she opened the door.

'I'm not a kid,' Dawn protested under her breath.

'Riley!' Buffy emerged from the kitchen and wrapped her arms round him, but that was as far as they went. Riley was uncomfortable about kissing his girlfriend in front of her mother.

'Riley.' Joyce greeted him with a broad smile.

'Mrs Summers. Is it okay if I steal your daughter away for the afternoon?'

'I think something can be arranged,' Joyce replied. 'Just this once. Is it all right if you take Dawn with you as well? I would look after her, but I've got to get over to the gallery. There's a whole shipment of Celtic artefacts that needs cataloguing.'

Buffy stared at her boyfriend, pleading with her eyes for him to say no.

'I don't see that being a problem,' Riley said.

Buffy elbowed him in the ribs.

'What?' he protested. Buffy just glared.

Riley shrugged. 'C'mon, kiddo,' he said to Dawn, 'the car's waiting outside.'

'I'm not a…' Dawn began.

'We know,' the others answered in unison.

* * *

Clouds scudded across the blue-grey sky. Tara squinted at the horizon and hoped rain was not on the way. Mind you, there were plenty of people around here who did want to get wet. 

The quarry was a favourite college hangout and many students, mostly male, were diving from the edge of the sand-coloured pit into the lake at the bottom. Those onlookers not participating whooped with delight every time a fresh body struck the water.

Tara pulled her dark cardigan tight as she hugged herself.

'Isn't that a bit dangerous,' she said.

'See how we're not doing it,' Willow answered.

'There's nothing to it,' Xander added from his position near the picnic hamper. 'I bet I could do it.'

'But you're not going to,' Anya said. 'I prefer my Xander with his skull intact.'

Willow pulled a face and Tara tried not to laugh.

'I still don't understand what we're all doing out here, anyway,' Anya continued, 'and why I almost had to leave the magic shop unattended.'

'Anya, I explained all this to you last night,' Xander said patiently.

'Oh yes, now I remember. Right after -'

'Yes, right after…that,' Xander interrupted swiftly. 

Tara and Willow avoided looking at each other fearing that if their eyes met they might burst into giggles.

Xander persevered. 'We're here to spend some quality time with our friends.'

'Your friends,' Anya corrected.

'_Our_ friends,' Xander repeated. 'We don't often get a chance to just hang out like normal people, y'know, without any vampires, or zombies or demons…'

'Hey!' Anya exclaimed.

'Ex-demons excepted,' Xander corrected hurriedly. 'But it's like we can't turn around anymore without some horny demon out to boil our eyes or someone messing about with magical weirdness…'

'Hey!' Willow protested.

Tara raised her hand. 'Can I second that 'hey'?'

'And what's wrong with horny demons anyhow?' Anya smiled slyly, linking her arm with Xander's.

Willow rolled her eyes as Xander's face attempted to mimic the colour of beetroot. Tara stared at her feet, her long hair hiding her face.

Xander gently extricated himself from his girlfriend.

'Look, okay, I admit I'm not saying this very well, but you get where I'm coming from, right?'

'No,' Anya answered honestly.

'Wait a sec,' Willow said, settling herself on the blanket covering the grass. 'Back it up. 'Nearly had to leave the magic shop unattended?' What's that all about?'

'Oh, Giles didn't come in to work this morning,' Anya explained.

'That's not like him,' Tara interjected, tucking her legs neatly under her as she dropped down next to Willow.

'I can't understand it,' Anya agreed. 'How could anyone want to be away from all those lovely customers and their lovely money? I was afraid I might have to close the shop this afternoon. I hate having to choose between my money and my Xander.'

'Tough choice,' Willow agreed.

'Will!' Xander protested.

'It didn't matter anyway because he arrived just as I was about to go out. He was all kind of flushed and…' Anya waved her arms about, '…oh, I don't know, up, happy, full of life.' She grinned broadly. 'I figure he'd been having sex.'

'Ann?' Xander's eyes threatened to explode from their sockets. 'You can't say things like that.'

'Why not?'

'Well, y'know, we talked about this.'

Anya snuggled up against him. 

'Mmmm, and we don't talk about it nearly enough,' she said.

'So, do you reckon Olivia's visiting, then?' Willow asked.

'Does it matter?'

The other three turned to Tara and she seemed to shrink within her clothes.

'What I mean is,' she stammered, 'well, shouldn't Mr Giles' private life be, well, private?'

'Hey, Giles is one of the gang,' Xander said. 'We have no secrets from each other, am I right? Or is that just me? Talk to me, guys, I'm getting that it's just me, here.'

'Hey guys, miss me?'

'Ah, saved by the Buffster,' Xander said.

'As usual,' Anya added dryly.

'And the Dawnster,' Xander continued. 'And how is my favourite of Buffy's sisters today?'

'I'm her only sister,' Dawn commented.

'And your point is?'

'Buffy, you want to give me a hand with these?' Riley asked, his arms laden with provisions. 'There's some more in the car.'

'Sure, just give me a minute,' Buffy responded vaguely as she crossed to the low fence around the lip of the quarry.

Willow touched Tara's shoulder and the other girl turned to meet her eyes. She nodded and Willow got up and joined Buffy.

'Hey,' she said.

'Hey, yourself,' Buffy replied.

'So, you want to talk about it?' Willow leant back against the fence.

The wind picked up, lifting Buffy's hair away from her face and dragging it behind her like a flag.

'Talk about what?' Buffy asked.

'Whatever it is that's eating at you.'

Buffy turned, her head tilted to one side.

'Have you got some wacky Wiccan thing that lets you see that?'

Willow folded her arms and cracked her shy half-smile.

'Nope, that would be a wacky best friend thing,' she explained.

'That obvious, huh?'

'It is to me. So, are you going to tell me about it?'

'I had a fight with Giles last night,' Buffy said.

'Well, that's new.'

'Will, was that sarcasm?'

'From me?'

'Will, I'm serious.'

Willow held up her arms in mock surrender.

'Okay, from now on I am a sarcasm-free zone.'

'We were at Ms Calendar's grave last night. There were vampires and Giles started acting all crazy. Will, I think he still blames me for…what happened, y'know, with Angel and…'

'Did he say that?' Willow asked.

'Well, no, but…'

'But me no buts,' Willow insisted. 'Take it from me, Giles does not and never has blamed you for what happened. I think there's just been some weird misunderstanding and the sooner you two sort it out the better. Have you tried talking to him yet?'

'No,' Buffy admitted. 'Riley wanted me to go round to see Giles this morning, but I wasn't sure…'

'Well, get sure,' Willow instructed. 'If you talk and then he talks and then you both talk, this whole thing'll be forgotten about before you know it.'

'You think?'

'I know. I am a wacky Wiccan, remember?'

'And a best friend,' Buffy added. 'C'mon, let's go eat.'

'Besides,' Willow added as they strolled back towards the others, 'sounds like Giles could be over it already. Olivia's over.'

'No way? What do girls see in him?'

'Well…no, on second thoughts, let's pretend that I wasn't just about to go there.'

'Willow!'

* * *

Phoebe Donner was nineteen. She worked in a bookstore six days a week and lived with her parents while she saved up enough money to move to L.A. Of course, saving would be easier if she did not go out clubbing whenever possible. She had been on her way over to the Bronze tonight. She had stayed late at the store to help unpack a new delivery that had come in that morning and had then had to race home to get changed. She was big on what she saw as the 'Goth' look. She had naturally olive skin so she had to use a heavy base to achieve the desired degree of whiteness, but the effect contrasted well with her ink black hair. She wore black, leather trousers and a vinyl jacket. Her slender neck was decorated by a spiked collar and a bat-shaped earring hung from her left earlobe. The only colour marring her monochrome look was her bright green lipstick.

The people, she knew at the club - she did not have friends - told her that she looked like a vampire. That was okay with Phoebe. She was really into that whole Anne Rice, Laurell Hamilton thing and had always harboured a secret longing to meet a real live vampire. She found the idea of someone sinking their sharp teeth into the soft flesh of her throat strangely erotic.

At least, she had until about five minutes ago.

The guy breathing down her neck was no Lestat. Phoebe had seen him at the bookstore a half-dozen times, always right before closing after the sun had started to set. He was called Chaz or Chad or something. He was hairless, right down to the fact that there were no eyelashes hidden behind his glasses. His eyes were tinged pink with albinism, hardly a problem for a creature of the night. He was thin and wiry and looked as if he might snap in the wind, but the arm that pinned her to the ground was stronger than any human had a right to be. But that was okay because Chaz/Chad was not human.

Phoebe struggled to free herself, but she might as well have been trying to lift a house. She was pinned to the ground and the blows she struck with her flailing hands rolled off the vampire like rain on a windshield. She cried out as she felt his teeth pierce her skin. The bite was not gentle and loving as she imagined, but brutal and full of pain. This was not the nip of a lover, but the bite of a hungry carnivore.

'Leave the woman alone!'

Phoebe could not see who had spoken, but he sounded male and he was not American. He had a lilting accent she could not place.

'I said, leave her alone!'

The weight on her chest eased as Chaz/Chad was hauled off of her.

'I wish to converse with thee, demon,' her rescuer said to the vampire who was now suspended, feet three inches from the ground. Phoebe was still unable to see the man who had rescued her. She was staring straight at him, but he glowed with a bright golden light that made it impossible to discern more than a vague silhouette.

'Listen to me, demon, and listen well,' the man was saying. 'Your kind are a stain upon this earth, a canker. If I had my way, you and others like you would be swept away and this land made pure and clean once more. But it is just possible you may be of use to me. Would you like to help me, demon.'

Chaz/Chad nodded vigorously. His mouth was moving, but he was unable to form words.

'Good,' the golden man said. 'Now tell me where you have hidden the Cauldron of the Dagda.'

'The what?' the vampire blurted.

* * *

'So we stop by Giles' place and then find somewhere to leave the car while we do a circuit of the cemeteries on foot,' Riley said.

'Sounds like a plan,' Buffy replied.

They had stayed out at the quarry until after dark, enjoying just being friends for a while, but eventually duty had won out. She was the Slayer and she had to patrol. Riley had offered to keep her company and Xander had volunteered to drive Dawn home so that they could get started straight away. Of course, there was the little matter of talking things through with Giles to deal with first.

'You could try and sound a bit more enthusiastic,' Riley commented. 'Not looking forward to seeing Giles again, huh?'

Buffy squirmed in her seat, as much as her seatbelt would allow.

'I'm just not sure about bursting in on him right now, especially if Olivia's with him. We might interrupt…no, I so don't want to think about that.'

Riley laughed. 'Yes, that might be a bit embarrassing, but I don't think that's the real reason you're trying to avoid going, do you?'

'Riley, look out!' Buffy screamed.

Riley slammed on the brakes as he, too, saw the girl run out into the road. He swerved to try to avoid her, but still managed to clip her with the wing of the car. She rolled up onto the bonnet and bounced off the windshield before sliding back into the road. Wheels locked, Riley's car careered sideways before wrapping itself around a tree.

'Buffy, are you all right?' Riley asked.

'Yeah, just a bit shaken up. Where'd you learn to drive anyhow? And they say I'm bad.'

'You are,' Riley responded. 'I'm going to check on that girl. Join me?'

'Sure, but I'll have to climb over and use your door. Your parking leaves a lot to be desired.'

'I'll try and do better next time.'

The girl had rolled off of the road and was lying against a clump of bushes. She was groggily trying to stand.

'Don't try to move,' Riley said, crouching at her side, 'we'll get help. Where are you hurt?'

'I can't move my arm,' the girl moaned.

'Makes sense,' Riley said. 'You took the windshield with your shoulder. I'm Riley, by the way.'

'Phoebe.'

Phoebe leaned forward as she spoke, revealing a nasty wound on her neck. Riley looked at Buffy and she nodded. She had recognised it, too.

'What were you running from, Phoebe?' Buffy asked.

'Running? I wasn't?'

'You ran straight out into the road,' Riley said. 'Something must have spooked you.'

'You're gonna think I'm crazy.'

'Try us,' Buffy suggested.

'We've seen our share of crazy,' Riley added.

'Look, there was this guy and he sort of came out of nowhere and…and I think he was a vampire.'

Phoebe's voice was shrill with hysteria. Riley took her hand in both of his and gave it a comforting squeeze.

'Shh, it's okay, he's gone now,' Riley said. 'You're safe.' He indicated the wound on her neck. 'Did he do that?'

'Y-yes. Y'know, I thought it wouldn't hurt. That it was something special. But it isn't, is it?'

Buffy scowled and rolled her eyes. She had very little time for romantic vampire wannabes, but now was not the time to preach.

'No, it isn't,' she muttered.

Phoebe was on the verge of tears. 'It hurt. It hurt so much. It felt as if he was tearing my throat out.'

'But he's gone now, Phoebe' Riley assured her. 'You fought him off.'

'No,' Phoebe said. 'I didn't.'

'You didn't?' Buffy repeated. Phoebe shook her head.

'There was this other guy,' she explained.

'Human or vampire?'

'I don't know. I couldn't get a good look at him. He kind of glowed, y'know, like a light bulb. And he had a funny accent.'

'Just tell us what happened, Phoebe,' Riley urged.

'Well, this guy pulls the vampire off of me and he starts asking him lots of questions about some kind of cauldron.'

'A cauldron?' Riley pressed.

'Yeah, I'm pretty sure he said cauldron, but the vampire didn't know anything so this guy he…well, he…'

'Yes?' Buffy prompted.

'C'mon, Phoebe, you can tell us,' Riley added.

And now Phoebe did start crying.

'He tore him apart,' she sobbed


	4. Strange Little Girl

Chapter Three - Strange Little Girl

__

Have you ever had one of those days where you felt completely out of place? You know, like that kid sitting at the back of the class who's had to repeat the year? Or the one guy at an N'Sync concert? Welcome to my life.

It's crazy enough at the best of times – how many other kids my age can claim to hang out with witches and werewolves (when they're not reading Harry Potter_, anyways) – but it might be nice to feel I belonged. But I'm not a member of the gang, am I? Buffy's friends belong, and their boy and girlfriends, but Buffy's sister gets conveniently left behind. I mean, it's not as if I haven't had my share of adventures. Buffy even invites the ghosts and zombies home with her. But that's okay. I make the mistake of inviting a vampire in – just one – and I'm grounded for a month. But who was it who found that nest of boojums? (We were hunting for snarks at the time, but whatever, right?)_

Not that that matters to them_. Oh no._

Case in point:

Today, Buffy wanted to hang out with her friends at the quarry. Am I invited? We are still talking about the same Buffy, aren't we? Apparently the quarry is a college place, not open to school kids like me. What's up with that? It's not as if there's a coolness gene that gets switched on when you turn eighteen, not if they're any example anyway. And besides, Xander's not even in college, but he_ gets invited. Mind you, he's a guy with a coolness gene…_

Not that I'd want to go on their stupid get-together anyway. I mean, I grew out of picnics years ago. But it would have been nice to be asked.

Not that it would have mattered. Mom's still got this idea that I'm six years old and need babysitting all the time. I can look after myself. Okay, there was that one time, but that was ages ago. I've matured since then. Not like Buffy, who still thinks a pointy stick is an in fashion accessory, but she gets to do what she wants. I'm not naive, I know she's off saving the world and stuff, but that doesn't make her the centre of the universe. Other people matter.

So I'm packed into the back of Riley's car where I'm sure Buffy's hoping I can be forgotten about. Yeah, like I'm going to let that happen. Good thing Riley wants to talk then. He'd be okay, if he wasn't so stiff. And if he stopped treating me like a kid. I'm fourteen! Buffy refuses to talk to me through the entire ride. Her loss. She's got a major bee in her bonnet about something.

I was still awake when she came home last night. Mom thinks I go straight to sleep when the light goes out, but I can read perfectly well by torchlight. Mom was waiting up, of course. She would have been sitting in the lounge, the TV on low and her work strewn across the table. But she wouldn't be watching television and she wouldn't pick up the papers. Instead she would be watching the clock and listening for the sound of the key in the door. I wonder if she'd wait up if I was out late?

Anyways, I've just decided to put my book away (honest) when I hear the front door open. Mom gets up off the couch to see if Buffy's okay, but Buffy runs straight past her, feet pounding up the stairs. I hear her close her bedroom door. She doesn't slam it, but she closes it firmly enough to discourage intruders. Mom must have taken the hint because instead of following her in, she raps gently on the door. I can hear her whispering, but I can't make out the words. Finally she gives up and goes to bed herself.

I wait for the house to settle, listening to the furniture creak as it eases itself into its resting position, then I pull back the duvet and get out of bed. There's enough moonlight filtering through the curtains to see by, so I leave the torch on the floor and cross the landing to stand outside Buffy's room. I knock, but she ignores me. Tough. I open the door and take a look inside.

'Dawn? Is that you? What are you still doing up?'

Buffy looks up at me, sleepy eyes straining in the semi-darkness, hair in disarray. Bet Riley wouldn't think she was half as hot if he ever saw her like this. Wait a minute, he probably has.

'I couldn't sleep,' I lie, 'and I wanted to find out what's wrong.'

'Wrong? Nothing's wrong.' Now who's lying? 'Does Mom know you're up?'

'C'mon, Buffy, even Mom can see something's wrong.' I sit on the end of the bed, but Buffy tugs the duvet out from under me, forcing me to stand back up. 'Whatever it is, you can tell me. We're sisters, aren't we?'

'Whatever you say, Dawn,' Buffy replied, rolling over so that her back was to me. 'Now go back to bed.'

'It's you and Riley, isn't it,' I guessed. 'You've had a fight.'

'No,' Buffy snapped. 'Riley and I are fine, but you won't be when I tell Mom you're still awake. Now get.'

I got.

Things hadn't improved all morning and I can't say I expected them to get any better that afternoon. It's a bummer being right all the time. 

I chatted to Riley about school, about the play I'm auditioning for a part in, about Mrs Schofield, the Math teacher who's got it in for me, and absolutely NOT about Matthew Granger, the cute kid at the back of the class. He wouldn't understand. Matthew's no Xander, but at least Matthew doesn't have an Anya hanging round his neck.

Speaking of which, that was exactly how I found Xander when we arrived. Anya was crawling all over him. I mean, there should be laws against that sort of thing. And Buffy's the centre of attention, as always, first with Xander, then Willow. And me? I get teased. By Xander, of all people. I mean, I smile and I pretend to get the joke, but it hurts, you know. I thought that of all of them, he was special. The rest of them can be Buffy's little automata (okay, that's a bit harsh, but let me rant here), but I thought Xander was different. Guess I've still got a lot to learn, huh? It's still them and us, only he's parked his butt on the side of 'them'.

I just want to feel like I belong, you know. There's all this stuff going on in my life that I can't talk to my friends about because they wouldn't believe me and I can't talk to the 'Scoobies' about because they don't want me around. And I'm stuck in the middle and I don't seem to fit in anywhere and I can't help feeling that maybe…

* * *

'Maybe you're not supposed to be here?'

Dawn sat upright, eyes darting around the room. She had been lying face down on the bed as she updated her diary.

'Who's there?' she asked. She stepped slowly off of the bed, backing towards the door. She could not see anyone, but given the amount of clutter in her room was that really a surprise?

'I'll scream.' That was a bluff. Buffy was on patrol and Mom was not back from the art gallery. Xander had offered to stay, but he and Anya clearly wanted to be somewhere else and Mom was due back any minute.

'Scream if you must, but I only want to help you,' the voice said.

Dawn stiffened. She had just about convinced herself that she had been hearing things. She stumbled backwards and slammed into the door.

'Help me?' Dawn prompted. She reached behind her and tried to find the door handle.

'Yes, help you,' cawed the crow on the windowsill. 'You don't belong here and I am going to tell you what you really are.'


	5. Shut Your Mouth

Chapter Four - Shut Your Mouth

'You know what my problem is?' Spike asked as he planted a boot in his opponent's stomach. 'I lack self confidence.'

The creature doubled over and Spike jabbed it in its eyes.

'You're not gonna believe me,' Spike said, bouncing from foot to foot as he waited for the creature to get back up, 'but once upon a time I was called William the Bloody. Can you imagine?'

The redcap adopted a hunched posture, its dark eyes studying the vampire. It was holding an axe in long twig-like arms that almost reached the ground.

'Listen, mate, feel free to jump into this conversation whenever it suits, okay,' Spike commented.

The redcap snarled, drool dripping from its wrinkled face, then it sprang, long legs launching it across the space between it and the vampire in a single bound. It brought the axe down hard, but Spike had already dived out of the way.

'Mind where you're swinging that bleedin' hedge-trimmer,' Spike complained. 'You could take somebody's eye out with that.'

Using a tree for support, Spike swung himself up on to the roof of a mausoleum. He perched there like a leather-clad gargoyle, eyes fixed on the angry redcap.

'As I was saying, I used to be somebody,' he continued. 'Me and Dru and that other fella. We were the best, you know.'

The axe struck the stone by Spike's foot, raising sparks.

'What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?' Spike demanded as he hopped down from the roof. He spun and kicked out high into the redcap's face. The creature's blood red hat went spinning off into the dirt. 'Can't you see I'm eulogising here?'

The redcap grabbed the lapels of Spike's coat in its talons and lifted him up off the ground. Spike headbutted him.

'Hands off the jacket,' Spike insisted as he picked himself up off the floor. 'It's a souvenir. From a Slayer, no less. Yeah, that's right. A Slayer.'

The redcap swung its axe experimentally as it looked for an opening.

'Killed her,' Spike explained, breathing heavily. 'Killed two of the things. Course, that was back in the good old days. B.S. Before Sunnydale. Before Summers.'

The redcap swung the axe low, aiming for the vampire's feet. Spike jumped straight up and landed on the flat of the axe blade, pinning it to the ground.

'Didn't I just ask you not to do that,' he said. He leaped again, spinning in the air and lashing out with a foot. His boot connected with the redcap's jaw, sending him rolling backwards away from the axe.

'As I was saying, before I was rudely interrupted - and I really would stay down this time if I were you - this town hasn't exactly been good to me,' Spike continued. He and the redcap were crouched low, cat-like, as the circled the fallen axe. 'And maybe that's why I'm with an airhead like Harm.'

Spike feinted left, but the redcap was not fooled. Spike shrugged. Then he tumbled forward, rolling head over heels in the direction of the axe. The redcap lacked his finesse, simply diving forward, sliding the last few feet to the weapon on its stomach.

Their hands clasped round the weapon almost simultaneously.

The redcap stood up, dragging Spike upright with him.

'I'd be the first to admit that Harmony isn't exactly all there,' Spike was saying even as he struggled to maintain his grip on the axe. 'Actually, she can be bloody irritating at times.'

The redcap shook the axe, trying to throw Spike loose, but he refused to let go, in spite of being hurled about like a wet rag.

'But there's one thing you need to remember,' Spike said without missing a beat. 'Nobody bad mouths my girl but me.'

Spike's face contorted. Ridges appeared and his eyes yellowed. When he smiled he bared his fangs.

Spike dug his heels into the soft ground and yanked on the axe, tearing it from the redcap's grip.

'Got it?' he asked.

He swung the axe in one fluid motion. The movement was so fast that a human might have had trouble following it, but the redcap was not human. Even it, however, could only watch as the blade approached and then bit into the soft flesh of its neck.

Spike left the body where it lay and went to collect the head.

He scooped it up one-handed.

'Next time,' he said, 'remember your manners.'

He released the head and brought his boot up to meet it as it fell.

'He shoots, he scores!' the vampire shouted as the head sailed over the treetops and out of sight.

Spike sat down on top of a headstone and lit a cigarette.

He didn't know for sure if the redcap had really been badmouthing Harmony, but, quite frankly, he didn't care. Since he had had this chip installed he was not able to harm humans, but non-humans were still fair game. And he had to admit that - metaphorically and otherwise - he got quite a kick out of it.

* * *

'Well that was fun,' Buffy said.

'Could be wrong, but I think I'm detecting sarcasm, Miss Summers,' Riley commented as they left the hospital.

'Well spotted, Mr Finn. I take back everything I've said about you.'

'Everything?' Riley queried as he put an arm around her.

'Well, maybe not _everything_,' Buffy purred as she snuggled in as close as she could while still being able to walk.

The pair had accompanied Phoebe Donner to the hospital and then had to answer a whole load of police questions regarding the car accident and the attack on Phoebe. Having agreed to give written statements in the morning, Buffy and Riley had finally been allowed to leave.

'So, what would you like to do now?' Riley asked.

'Well…' Buffy began.

'No, don't tell me. You want to patrol,' Riley sighed.

'We _should_ go looking for golden boy,' Buffy said.

'Before he kills any more vampires, you mean,' Riley said.

Buffy scowled.

'Just kidding.' Riley stroked Buffy's hair. 'You know, all work and no play makes Buffy a dull girl.'

'Is that so?' Buffy asked. 'Well then, Mr Finn, you'd better hope I'm not tired out by the time we get home...'

* * *

The creature watched Willow over the top of the barrier. The girl was sitting cross-legged on her bed, seemingly oblivious to the creature's presence. It sharpened its claws as she turned the page of her textbook, pausing every so often to scribble an entry into the notebook next to her. The little monster crept out from behind the shelter of the discarded sandal and stalked towards its prey. There was a noise from outside the room, the sound of a key turning in a lock.

'Hi honey, I'm home,' Tara called.

Willow began to rise from the bed to go and meet her.

The animal had to make its move now.

It sprang.

'Hey there, Miss Kitty,' Willow said as the kitten landed in her lap. 'Were you feeling lonely down there?'

Swinging her legs off the bed, Willow scooped up Miss Kitty Fantastico and went to meet Tara at the door.

Tara was hanging up her coat.

'Missed you,' Willow said, getting as close as she could without crushing Miss Kitty.

'Missed you too,' Tara replied. 'And you,' she added, ruffling the fur on Miss Kitty's head.

Miss Kitty purred contentedly.

'I think she's feeling left out,' Willow explained. 'Aren't you, you ridiculous ball of fluff.'

Tara squeezed past in order to put a carton of milk in the fridge. She and Willow had got back after the picnic only to discover that they had no milk. Willow had been happy to leave it until the morning, but Tara had wanted to stretch her legs anyway after riding back in Xander's car.

'We could always bring her with us to Scooby meetings,' Tara suggested. 'She could be our official mascot.'

'I thought that was Xander,' Willow joked.

The kitten yowled and wriggled in Willow's arms.

'Let me,' Tara suggested as she picked Miss Kitty up herself. 'I don't think you're really taken with that idea, are you, Kitty? Trust me, you're better off here anyway.'

'I thought you liked Scooby stuff?' Willow protested.

'I do,' Tara insisted. 'Really. It's just the whole monsters and death and fate of the world stuff I could do without.'

'Well that's different,' Willow agreed. How about we take an evening off? You, me and Kitty. And no monsters.'

'Promise?' Tara asked.

'Promise.'

The window caved inwards. Fragments of glass were scattered across the bed and the carpet. Willow quickly uttered a few words of magic to prevent the shards getting within more than a few inches of her and Tara.

A figure followed the glass into the room. He glowed with a powerful golden light and Willow was unable to look at him directly. From the corner of her eye she gained the impression of a tall, handsome man with long hair. He appeared to be dressed in some kind of armour, decorated with spiral designs, but he carried no weapons.

'Where is the cauldron?' he demanded.

Tara looked at Willow.

'Sorry,' Willow said.


	6. Us and Them

Chapter Five - Us and Them

'So wh-what am I?'

Dawn still had her back to the door. Her questing hands had found the handle, but they had not turned it.

'Have you ever heard of a changeling?'

The voice - a woman's voice - had not come from the crow this time. Instead, it seemed to be coming from the mirror. Dawn risked looking away from the crow, but rather than its expected for reflection, the mirror showed a woman sitting in its place on the window-sill. Dawn glanced back at the window, but the crow was still there. She returned her attention to the woman in the mirror.

It was the eyes that struck her first, predatory and powerful. Dawn felt as if she was physically shrinking beneath the woman's stare. Beyond the eyes was a sharp-edged yet attractive face framed by straight black hair that fell to her waist. The hair was kept out of her eyes by a crown of ivy leaves. Her dress was green, pale at the halter round her throat, but dark green like holly at her ankles. The dress was hemmed with tiny leaves, golden as if touched by Fall. Similar leaves formed a spiral pattern running the length of her left arm.

'A changeling?' Dawn repeated. 'You mean like in _Star Trek_?'

The woman smiled and Dawn felt as if she was humouring her. She did not like it when Mom did it and she was not about to start liking it now.

'I do not understand the words,' the woman replied, 'but I suspect not. A changeling is one of the fairy-folk.'

'Fairies. Right.'

Jacqui at school was into fairies in a big way. She was forever doodling them in the margins of her textbooks. Dawn had visited her house once. Her room was full of paintings of tiny women with butterfly wings. Dawn had not been impressed.

'I take it that you do not believe in fairies,' the woman deduced.

Dawn shrugged. She released the door handle and her hands found a home just behind her hips.

'They're no less believable that some of the other things I've seen,' she explained. 'Don't worry, nobody's going to be dropping dead any time soon. I'm just not a big fan.'

'Oh,' the woman said, 'that is a pity.'

'Tinkerbell was okay,' Dawn hastily added. 'In that movie. You know, the one with Robin Williams.'

The woman was looking condescending again.

'I fear that we have become distracted,' she said. 'I was explaining changelings. It is not unknown for members of the fairy kingdom to…acquire…newborn human children. The practise is discouraged, but we thrive on entertainment and it is at least understandable that some of our number might wish to seek that entertainment elsewhere. Of course, nothing in this life - or any other - is free, and in place of the human child the fairies leave a youngster of their own, a changeling.'

'A bit like a cuckoo you mean,' Dawn said.

'Yes, perhaps a bit,' the woman agreed, 'but unlike the cuckoo chick, the changeling rarely survives. Most changelings are dead before they reach their third birthday.'

'That's horrible.'

The woman shrugged. 

'It is the way of things. We are unsuited to this world and a prolonged stay can wither even the hardiest of us. But a few, a very few, can last beyond their third year. They can not only withstand this environment, but seem to thrive in it. Don't you, Dawn?'

'You mean I'm a…I…' Dawn's tongue was heavy and her mouth seemed unable to form words. Her hands were shaking so she buried them in her pockets.

'You can see it, can't you,' the woman said. 'You have known for a long time that you do not belong here. Now you know why. You are one of us, Dawn, and I am here to take you home.'

* * *

'What are these things?'

Buffy rolled to the left, narrowly avoiding a fist that smashed a hole through the window of the pet shop. A group of birds, woken by the sudden noise, began to cry out in alarm.

'Does it really matter?' Riley responded, diving between the legs of one monster as it swung a huge club through the space he had just occupied.

'Guess not,' Buffy admitted.

There were three of the monsters, each at least seven feet tall and probably closer to eight. They were hunch-backed and clad in matted animal furs. The grey-green skin was warty and oozing mucus. And they were not very friendly.

'Any bright ideas yet, Buffy,' Riley asked, rolling across the bonnet of a parked car in order to put the vehicle between him and the monster. 'Now would be a great time for a devastatingly cunning plan.'

'Sorry, I seem to be all out,' Buffy said, smashing the heel of her right hand into the jaw of the creature towering above her. 'Ow! What are these things made of?'

Buffy and Riley had just about given up on finding the creature that had saved Phoebe Donner and were circling back through town when they heard the commotion. These three things, whatever they were, had been tearing up the street in an apparently mindless act of destruction. The Sunnydale police force had taken one look and disappeared. 

_Which is exactly what we should have done_, Riley thought. The car was not proving quite the obstacle he had hoped. The creature grunted as it picked the vehicle up. It raised it over its shoulder, roared and then hurled it. Riley dived to the ground and the car sailed over him and through the window of the jewellery store across the street. These things might not be very fast, but they had even Buffy beat in the brute force department.

'Buffy, I love a good fight as much as the next man,' Riley began, 'but now might be a good time to cut our losses and run. Buffy?'

He glanced up to find out why she was not answering. It might have had something to do with the hand wrapped around her throat. The creature she had been fighting had lifted her up off the ground and though she was pounding it with her fists and feet in an effort to get free her blows were getting weaker the longer she was deprived of air.

Riley clambered to his feet, looking around for inspiration. Ahead of him were the other two creatures, advancing slowly towards him. Behind him was the wrecked car, the trunk hanging open. Riley ran to the car and stuffed his hands inside. _What I wouldn't give for Buffy's strength right now,_ he thought as he lifted the spare wheel out of the trunk.

'Hey, Ugly!' he shouted as he hefted the wheel two-handed and hurled it like a discus at the creature holding Buffy.

He had been aiming for its head, but he did not have the strength to throw it that far. The arc faltered early and the wheel fell, striking the monster in the small of its back with nothing like the force Riley had intended.

Nevertheless, it was enough.

The creature turned to face its assailant and, distracted, it loosened its hold on Buffy.

Suddenly able to breathe again, she gasped for whatever air she could.

'Forgotten about little ol' me?' she asked.

The creature turned its head back around.

Buffy jabbed both of her thumbs into its eyes. She dug deep, twisting her thumbs sideways and forcing the jelly out of its sockets.

Howling with pain, the creature stumbled backwards, releasing the girl. She landed cat-like on the tarmac.

'I'm through playing,' she said.

The pair advancing on Riley turned when they heard their brother's cry of pain. It was a mistake Riley was not going to pass up. Grabbing the tyre iron from the car's trunk he swung it up between the legs of the nearest monster. Hard. Its cry echoed its companion as it doubled over until its face was on a level with Riley's.

'Sorry, fella,' Riley said. 'But you heard the lady.'

He smashed the tyre iron across the creature's face.

The makeshift weapon folded like a paperclip.

The creature snarled and Riley backed away.

'Nice monster,' he said as he darted across the street to join Buffy.

'You just made him mad,' she said as Riley helped her to her feet.

'You think?' Riley commented. 'So how's this plan of yours coming along then?'

'Still working on it,' Buffy replied.

The two remaining monsters were advancing upon their position, drool trickling from their mouths and steaming where it struck the road.

'So,' Buffy began, 'which do you want? Tweedle-dum or Tweedle-dummer?'

'Lady's choice,' Riley replied.

'Well aren't you the gentleman? On three? One. Two.'

The monsters turned and fled.

'Huh? Did I blink and miss the bit where we saved the day?' Buffy asked. 'What happened?'

'Well, much as I'd like to say they reacted to your winning personality,' Riley said, 'I think it's got more to do with him over there. If he keeps this up you'll be out of a job.'

'I wish,' Buffy said as she watched the golden man striding down the street towards them. Buffy felt that his feet didn't quite touch the ground, but it was difficult to make out any more than a silhouette behind that glow.

'Um, Hi,' she began. 'Thanks for the help. Not that we needed it, but thanks anyway.'

'I seek the cauldron,' the golden man said.

'Well, everyone should have a hobby,' Buffy replied.

'You will tell me where it is.'

'Look, we'd love to help you an' all, but we've no idea what you're talking about,' Buffy confessed.

'If you refuse to tell me,' the golden one warned, 'then I shall be forced to tear the knowledge from you. By force if necessary.'

'Now hang on a minute,' Riley said, interposing himself between Buffy and the glowing man. 'She's told you she doesn't know where it is so why don't you just…'

The creature lunged forward, its hand striking Riley's chest. No, Buffy saw, his hand had passed through Riley's chest and disappeared deep into his torso.

'Now, where is the cauldron?' the golden man repeated.

And Riley began to scream.


	7. Ready or Not

Chapter Six - Ready or Not

'Where is the cauldron?'

Willow and Tara looked at each other. Willow gestured with her eyes at the cabinet at the far end of the room. Tara nodded.

'The what-where-who?' Willow asked, circling round the double bed as Tara moved slowly in the opposite direction.

'The Cauldron of the Dagda,' the golden man explained. 'We were told it was here.'

'_Here_ here or S-Sunnydale here?' Tara asked.

The intruder was between the two girls and could not watch them both at the same time. While his back was turned, Willow squatted down and hauled a box out from under the bed.

The man heard the noise and started to turn, but, seeing the movement, Tara quickly added, 'No cauldrons here.'

'Nobody here but us witches,' Willow commented. She had put the box on the bed and her head was practically inside it as she rooted about for the things she wanted.

'And we're not the kind that use cauldrons,' Tara added as the intruder took a step towards Willow. The golden man turned back towards her, circling smoothly, like a dancer. He thrust his hand forward and it seemed to plunge into a gap in the air, his arm disappearing up to his elbow. Slowly, he withdrew his hand, but it was now holding an immense broadsword, its blade pitted and blunt, but no less brutal for it. This was not a weapon for a clean kill, but rather one for slowly hacking bits off of your opponent.

Tara swallowed.

'We're really not,' she insisted. 'Are we?'

'Uh-uh,' Willow assured her, distracting the creature from her friend. 'Great big smelly ugly type things.'

'Cauldrons or the witches who use them?' The intruder turned his attention back towards Tara, swinging his blade in smooth arcs, but keeping the movement contained, controlled. Tara tried to ignore him as she rapidly filled her arms with items taken from the cupboard on the wall.

Willow grinned. 'Both, I think.' The intruder turned to face her. Again. 

'Where is the Cauldron?' he demanded, levelling his blade with Willow's heart. 'We were told that it would be here. Therefore you must know where it is to be found. Either tell me now or I shall extract the information by force. Slowly.'

'Well, um, I hate to distract a man from his work, especially when he enjoys it so,' Willow said, her eyes fixed on the tip of the sword, 'but have you stopped to consider that you might have been misinformed? That maybe it isn't here, after all? Let's not forget how unreliable those cauldron-types can be. One little piece misinformation and your whole plan goes to pot.'

The intruder narrowed his eyes. Suddenly the bed between Willow and the intruder did not seem quite such an obstacle.

'Ah. My bad,' Willow said. She glanced over the man's shoulder to speak to Tara. 'Have we got any cinnamon?'

'I'll take a l-look…Here. Catch.' Tara threw the pot of ground cinnamon to Willow. The intruder, seeing the movement, had turned to face Tara. Now he followed the progress of the pot until he was back where he started.

'Thanks,' Willow said. 'What candles do you want?'

Tara paused, weighing up her options.

The intruder put a foot on the bed, ready to launch himself at Willow.

'A white one,' Tara blurted, 'and…um…the dark blue one. You know, the one with the rune in it. And there should be a black stone in there too.'

The intruder still had his foot on the bed, but his eyes were now boring into Tara's own. She stumbled back a step and struck the counter.

'Got it,' Willow said. She raised her head from the box. 'Tara, look out!'

The golden man had finally made up his mind and was lunging towards the taller witch. With no time for anything fancy, Tara blew the dark powder in her right hand into the man's face. He stumbled away, coughing and spluttering, his hands rubbing at his eyes.

'Cool spell, Tara,' Willow said appreciatively. 'What was it?'

'Spell? I didn't have time for a spell. That was just pepper.'

Tara and Willow used the golden man's temporary confusion to swap spell components with each other. Willow used a jar of white paste to paint a third eye on her forehead while Tara lit the two candles and placed the smooth black stone at the closest point of an equilateral triangle formed with the candles.

'I'm missing something.' Willow was frantically emptying the contents of the box on to the bed. 'Come on, come on. Engage brain.'

The golden man had recovered his balance. He was leaning on the doorjamb while he planned his next move.

'Uh, Willow, honey,' Tara said, 'now might be a really good time to think of something.'

'What? Oh. Yeah. Glow-in-the-dark creepy thing. Can a glowing thing be creepy? Doesn't that kinda make it difficult to creep?'

'Willow!'

'Right. Nerves. Babbling. Salamander scales!'

'What?'

'Salamander scales,' Willow repeated. 'Brown jar, bottom shelf.'

'Coming right up,' Tara said as she dived back into the cabinet. 'Here, catch!'

Tara threw the jar.

Willow braced to catch it.

The golden man launched himself at the smaller witch.

'Willow!' Tara shouted.

Willow turned, but did not have time to move out of the way.

Tara desperately tried to think of a spell, but could not come up with one that would not hurt Willow as well.

And then Miss Kitty Fantastico darted forward. She ran in and around the golden man's legs, disrupting his footing.

He fell and Willow stumbled back out of reach.

And the jar completed its arc by smashing into the wall and spilling its contents over the carpet.

'Whoops,' Tara said.

'Tara,' Willow shouted as the man struggled back to his feet. 'I need another spell ingredient. Anything.'

Tara grabbed the first thing that came to hand and threw it to Willow who caught it easily.

'Thyme?' she complained. 'What am I supposed to do with thyme?'

Tara shrugged apologetically.

'Guess we'll just have to suck it and see,' Willow muttered. 'Ready?'

Tara held up a length of black ribbon.

Willow stuffed the thyme into a pocket and then filled one hand with salt and the other with cinnamon.

'Lets do it,' she said.

Taking a deep breath to centre herself, Tara began to tie knots in the ribbon. As she did so she began to chant.

'By knot of one, my will be done.

By knot of two, this spell be true.'

While Tara chanted, Willow circled the golden creature, surrounding it with a circle of salt. She was just completing the circle when the man lashed out with his sword. Willow dodged most of the thrust, but it still sliced through her sleeve, opening up her upper arm. She stumbled back on to the bed, hand pressed against the wound, face contorted in pain.

'_Rhodon_,' she snarled.

The intruder cried out and dropped his sword. The hilt had sprouted tiny thorns. 

Gritting her teeth, Willow struggled to her feet and gathered up her spell components. Swiftly, she completed a second circle, this time of cinnamon, then another circle of salt.

'By knot of five, this spell's alive,' Tara continued. 'By knot of six, like stone be fixed!'

The golden man froze, like a statue. Only his eyes remained in motion, glancing first from one witch then to the other.

'I like,' Willow said. 'How long does it last?'

'That depends on the power of the entity being bound,' Tara explained. The golden man's fingers began to twitch. 'I'm guessing not very long.'

'My turn then,' Willow said.

She took the thyme in both hands and extended her arms towards the creature until they were locked and rigid. The eye painted on her forehead began to glow with a light of its own. It seemed to suck all other light from the room so that the only illumination was that which came from Willow's face.

'Be gone!' she snapped.

A wind whipped up as if from nowhere and threw the creature backwards throw the window. Shattered glass could be heard raining on to the ground below.

Willow and Tara ran to the hole to look for their intruder, but he was nowhere to be seen.

'Thyme out,' Willow whispered. Then she grinned. 'Hey. I made a funny. I feel almost Buffy-like now. Only without the pointy sticks.' She rolled her shoulders back and puffed out her chest heroically. 

'I love you just the way you are,' Tara assured Willow, putting an arm round her and planting a light kiss on top of her red hair. 'Now, who's going to pay for the window?'


	8. Hey You

Chapter Seven - Hey You

'Let commando-boy go, why don't you. You're blocking traffic!'

Spike was standing in the middle of the road, a six-pack cradled under one arm.

'Do you three want to take your little party some place else?' he asked. 'It's getting so a vamp can't nick his booze in peace anymore.' He dug a battered packet of cigarettes out of his coat pocket. 'Anybody got a light? Other than golden-balls, I mean.'

'Spike?' Buffy frowned at him. 'What are you doing here?'

'What does it look like?' Spike gestured at his beer with the cigarettes. 'I'm guessing that whatever army-brat sees in you it's not your dazzling intellect.'

'Spike, now is _so_ not the time,' Buffy commented.

The golden man turned to face Spike, Riley still impaled on his outstretched arm.

'Another vampire,' he said. 'Your kind are a stain on this realm. An infestation we shall have to clear when we reclaim it.'

'You know, glitterbug, I was just going to go on my way and leave you three to sort out your differences privately.' Spike set his drinks down on the ground. 'But now you're really starting to piss me off.'

'Is that a threat, insect?' the golden creature asked.

'Put it this way,' Spike said, 'these two I know I can't hit, but I'm guessing I won't have that kind of problem with you.'

His face contorted as he vamped up. He cocked his head to one side, studying the other creature.

'Want a ten second head start?' he asked. 'Too late.'

He dived forward, right arm leading the way. The creature grabbed his wrist in mid-air and hurled Spike over his shoulder and through the window of the pet shop. He crashed to a halt amidst a display of fish tanks. The tanks exploded, drenching the vampire in water.

He sat up slowly.

'No hard feelings?' he asked as he began to pick guppies out of his hair.

Buffy hurled herself through the air, scissoring her legs so that first one boot, then the other collided with the golden man's chin. She landed on her hands and flipped backwards to end in a crouch.

The creature turned to face her, allowing Riley to slide of his arm and collapse in a heap on the road. The golden man then thrust his hands forward then tugged at the air as if he were parting a curtain. Buffy had a brief glimpse of golden light spilling from a hole in the air before reality snapped back in to place. The man no had a quiver in one hand and a bow in the other. Throwing the quiver over his shoulder, he nocked a golden arrow.

He let the arrow fly.

Buffy leaped, pirouetting in the air as she curved her spine away from the arrow. It brushed passed her and struck the sedan parked behind her. The car exploded and the force over the explosion carried Buffy across the street.

'Spike!' she shouted. 'A little help here?'

Spike was still sitting amid the fish.

'What do you expect me to do?' he asked as he lit a cigarette. 'Beat him to death with a wet kipper? You're on your own this time, Slayer.'

'Thanks a lot,' Buffy snapped as she dived out of the way of another arrow.

'What do you expect? Charity?' Spike demanded. 'I'm only in this for the kicks. And then only if I'm the one doing the kicking.'

Buffy shimmied up a drainpipe, hoping to put some distance between her and the archer, but knowing she could not abandon Riley.

'Well just look at Macho Man,' Buffy sniped. 'Nice to know your courage knows no bounds.'

'Oh yeah? Where the hell does courage get you anyway?' Spike demanded. 'Six feet under, that's where. Been there and don't much fancy going back, thanks ever so.'

The golden man fired another arrow. It missed Buffy, but had not been meant for her. Instead, it struck the side of the building just beneath its roof. The resulting explosion drove the wall inwards and, unsupported, the roof began pouring to the ground taking Buffy with it. She landed awkwardly, her leg pinned by debris.

The archer nocked another arrow.

'I guess now we find out just how tough Slayer strength really is,' Buffy muttered as she met the archer's cool stare. 'Come on then!' she shouted. 'Finish it!'

'To hell with this,' Spike complained.

In one smooth motion, he drew a loaded crossbow from within his coat, raised it and pulled the trigger. The bolt flew and embedded in the back of the archer's neck, its momentum carrying it on through his throat and out the other side.

The archer collapsed first to his knees and then fell on to his side.

'And like you couldn't have done that earlier?' Buffy moaned as she dug her leg out from beneath the fragments of roof.

'I had to wait until you'd got him in position,' Spike replied, cigarette still held between his lips. 'It's called teamwork.'

'Yeah. Right.' 

Buffy was crouched beside Riley. 

'He's unconscious, but he's still breathing,' she called out.

'Well, there's a relief,' Spike said sarcastically. 'Dammit.'

'What?'

Spike was shaking his crumpled packet of cigarettes.

'Bleedin' fags are soaked through,' he complained. 'How am I ever gonna get a light now?'

'Those things'll kill you anyway,' Buffy told him.

Spike cocked his head to one side and glared.

Buffy crossed to the fallen archer. Even with half of his throat torn out he still glowed.

'So do you think he's dead?' she asked as she prodded the body with her toe. 'Or is it too much to hope that you might have managed to hit something vital?'

'How the hell should I know?' Spike snapped as he picked himself up. 'And I wish you wouldn't carp on like that.'

The tiled floor of the pet shop was slick with water from the fish tanks and Spike lost his footing as he tried to reach the door. He fell to one knee and collapsed against a basket of kittens. 

'You seem to be floundering, Spike,' Buffy commented.

'Ha-bloody-ha.' The impact knocked the door to the basket open and the kittens bounced out and began to skip happily around the vampire. He picked one up by the scruff of its neck. 'You know, I know a few demons downtown who'd pay a pretty penny to get their hands on a few of these beauties.'

'You're sick, Spike,' Buffy responded.

Spike climbed slowly to his feet.

'About time you remembered,' he said. 'By the way, I'm guessing still alive.'

The archer's hand snapped closed around Buffy's ankle. His grip was strong and Buffy could feel the blood flow to her foot being cut off.

'Catch!' Spike shouted, grabbing a large piece of glass from the remains of the window and hurling it in her direction. Buffy caught it in her left hand and, ignoring the tearing in her palm, brought it down on to the archer's wrist. When the hand was severed the fingers released their grip.

'If you say 'thanks for the hand',' Spike began, 'then, chip or no chip, I will deck you.'

He hefted Riley over his shoulders in a fireman's lift.

The archer still had not got up, but his body was twitching with ever increasing violence.

'I'm thinking Plan B,' Spike said.

'Plan B,' Buffy agreed.

They ran.

* * *

As Buffy crossed the hospital waiting room in his direction, Spike put down the TV guide he was reading. Then he thought better of it and rolled it up and stuffed it in his coat pocket. There was an article on _Passions_ he could finish later.

'So, what'd the doc say?' he asked, standing up. 'Is the super-soldier gonna pull through.'

'They _think_ so,' Buffy replied.

'They _think_?'

'There's nothing wrong with him,' Buffy explained. 'Aside from the little matter of his being comatose and all. They want to run more tests, but…'

'Yeah, that's the trouble with magic,' Spike agreed. 'Doesn't usually leave much of a trace. Listen…'

He reached out a hand to comfort Buffy, but she flinched away.

'Hey, what's the matter?' he asked. 'Don't you trust me?'

'Spike, I trust you about as far as I could throw you,' she replied. 'Correction: about as far as _Xander_ could throw you.'

'Ouch! You've got quite a bite there, Slayer.'

'Look, I've got to go and phone Giles. Let him know what's been going on…'

'If I hear anything I'll come find you,' Spike assured her. 'Sooner you go, sooner you'll get back.'

'Yes. Right.' Buffy agreed.

'Well, get going then,' Spike prompted.

'Do you have any change for the phone?' Buffy asked.

* * *

Spike was pacing up and down like a caged tiger when Buffy returned. He stopped when he caught sight of her. Her shoulders where hunched and her arms were folded. She rubbed her upper-arms as if she were cold.

'Buffy, what is it? What's wrong?'

'It's Dawn,' Buffy explained. 'She wasn't home when Mom got back.'

'Kid's probably decided to spend the night with a friend,' Spike deduced.

'She would have said something,' Buffy insisted.

'Not much like her sister then,' Spike commented. 'Little bit's just being a rebellious teenager, is all. Nothing to worry about. I mean, what trouble can she get in to?'

'In Sunnydale?'

'Right,' Spike said. 'Oh crap.'


	9. Wrapped Around Your Finger

Chapter Eight - Wrapped Around Your Finger

__

The wind, tortured and angry, scoured the land

And with it brought the rain, a tortuous lash

That tore the bark from trees, turned fields to marsh.

The squirrels sought their refuge in the trees

Rabbits ever deeper under roots.

The sparrows hid their wings, forced from the air,

But none of this disturbed Morgan the Fair.

Ev'r deeper into wild woods traced her path

As farther from the court her feet did stray.

Blinded by her grief she wandered on,

Hate giving her direction through the storm.

'And what to my wood brings the Lady Morgan,

Called Fey for faerie blood flows in her veins?'

The speaker stood in shadow of the oak,

His visage cloaked in darkness, form unclear.

'Lord Bres,' began the Fey, 'I travelled far

To beg thy lordship for a minor boon.'

Lord Bres threw back his head and roared with mirth,

His laughter causing land and sea to quake.

'A boon you say? And what, pray, of the price?

Think thee that such a gift be given free?

Nay, for naught doth come without a debt to pay.'

'I have no fear of any form of debt

For I can offer that which thou most prize.'

'Thine words are sweet,' Lord Bres did thus reply,

'But men tell tales of Lady Morgan's words.

How her honeyed tongue tends to bewitch

The ear of him who hears, leaving him dazed.

His mind so addled, many are the things

He may in haste perform to late regret.'

And Morgan did reply, 'I have no wish

Thine lordship to deceive with shadowed words.

Rather, I offer up thy greatest prize.

The cauldron of thine fathers shall I gift

To thee if unto me this boon bestow.'

Now Bres knew well the Fey's most treach'rous ways

Yet still his heart did skip upon a beat

And hunger rose with his frames as he

Thought with delight of that prize in his hands

And though his mind warned him away, he turned

And asked her, 'Tell me of this boon you seek.'

Thus Morgan knew she had his lordship snared.

'This boon, tis but a tiny thing I say,

A little matter of a person's love.

To thee I gift the cauldron, in return

Thou shalt the heart of Merlin help me steal.'

* * *

'We're wasting time.'

Buffy was wearing a hole in Giles' carpet with her constant pacing.

'Buffy, I understand your frustrations,' Giles began.

'No. You don't.' Buffy stopped pacing and rounded on him, brandishing a stake. 'Strange creatures are popping up all over Sunnydale. Riley's in hospital. Dawn's missing. We ought to be _doing _something.'

'We are,' Giles assured her, taking a step closer so that he could place his hands on her shoulders.

'What if…' Buffy began, then tried again. 'What if Glory's got her?'

'She hasn't,' Giles promised quietly.

'How can you be so sure?' Buffy's voice was barely more than a whisper.

'Because if she had then I very much doubt we'd be having this conversation now. You've been searching all night. Xander's still out looking for her. If he finds anything he'll call. And we'll all join him just as soon as we can, but what we most need now is time to think things through.'

He took the stake from her hand and then gently, but firmly, sat her on the couch next to Anya. 

'There, there,' Anya said, then grinned brightly. 'Feel better now?'

'Much,' Buffy responded, her expression perplexed. She turned to Giles. 'So, shouldn't we be, like, comparing notes or something.'

'Yes, quite.' Giles took off his glasses and peered at the lenses before putting them back on. 'Willow, perhaps you and Tara would care to start us off.'

'Me?' Willow looked to Tara for support and the other witch took her hand in hers. 'Um, okay. Well, we'd got back from the quarry and Tara had gone out for milk and I was playing with Miss Kitty and the Tara came back and then this big golden guy came in through the window and he was asking about a cauldron and…'

Buffy shot off the couch.

'Will, you were attacked!'

'Yeah. It was so cool.'

'I admit that's not a word I use frequently,' Giles began, 'but are you quite sure it means what you think it means?'

Willow frowned.

'Well, I don't mean being threatened by a demon is cool - though, I guess, depends on your point of view - but you should have been there.' Willow's smile broadened as she remembered. 'He was all, 'I'm the big bad. Give me the cauldron or I'll cut you into tiny pieces,' and then Tara cast a spell that froze him and then I cast a spell and I threw him out of the window and then he disappeared. Only, not in a magicky kind of way.'

'We think he ran,' Tara explained.

'With his tail between his legs,' Willow confirmed proudly. 'Only without, you know, tail. Oh! Oh! And I was witty!'

'She was very witty,' Tara agreed.

'Good for you, Will,' Buffy said.

'And Tara,' Willow prompted.

'And Tara,' Buffy agreed. 'Three cheers for my two favourite witches.'

'How many witches do you know?' Anya asked curiously. 

The others glared.

'What?' Anya demanded before muttering, 'I was only asking.'

Buffy shook her head and decided a subject change might be in order.

'This golden guy sounds like one of the things that attacked Riley and me last night,' she commented.

'How is Riley?' Willow asked.

'Stable,' Buffy replied. 'He _should_ wake up any minute, but…'

'He'll be okay,' Willow promised.

'Sure he will,' Tara agreed.

Anya was fidgeting on the couch.

'Nobody attacked me,' she commented. 'You'd think that a vengeance demon, even an ex-vengeance-demon, would be worth a little effort. Am I losing my edge?'

'No, I'm sure men still run in fear from your presence,' Willow shot back. 'This isn't about you, Anya. Can't you see Buffy's upset?'

'Down, girl,' Buffy said. 'I'm sure Anya didn't mean anything by it. Besides, she's made a good point, in an Anya-ry kind of way.'

'I did?' Anya asked.

'These guys, whoever they are, seem to be attacking people pretty much at random. There was a girl Riley and I found on the way home, then you guys and then Riley and me.'

'And then there's this,' Tara said, laying a copy of the _Sunnydale Press_ on the table.

'Three dead and eleven injured in night of terror,' Buffy read.

'Just a normal night in Sunnydale then,' Anya said.

'Sunnydale residents are living in fear today following a night of apparently unconnected break-ins and assaults,' Buffy continued. She looked up. 'You don't think?'

'That each victim was asked about a cauldron?' Tara suggested.

'What's that about, anyway?' Willow asked. 'Giles?'

Giles was staring out of the window.

'Giles?' Buffy repeated.

'Sorry?' Giles raised a hand and began to massage the back of his neck. 'I was…distracted.'

'Distracted.' Buffy put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to one side. 'So, how is she?'

'I'm sorry?'

'Your guest?' Buffy prompted.

Giles removed his glasses and began to polish the lenses.

'My, er, guest?' he repeated.

'Now, don't be coy,' Buffy said with a smile.

'Yes, we already know that you and Olivia have been boinking,' Anya agreed.

'Thanks, Anya,' Buffy said dubiously. 'I would have put it a bit more delicately, but still…'

Giles leant against the window frame, his shoulders rising and falling as he chuckled softly.

'You thought Olivia and I…' he said. 'Whatever gave you that idea?'

'Well…' Anya began.

'On second thought, I'm certain that I really don't want to know. Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but, to the best of my knowledge, Olivia is still in England. She's certainly not here with me.'

Buffy glared at Willow.

'My bad,' Willow mouthed back.

'Now, one of you had a question,' Giles prompted.

Tara raised her hand.

'I was asking about c-cauldrons,' she said.

Giles began to pace.

'Yes, that would seem to be our best lead. It's a pity we don't have any more to go on.'

'He called it 'the Cauldron of the Dagda'. I think,' Tara said. 'Does that help?'

'The Cauldron of the Dagda.' Giles crossed to the bookcase and began running his finger along the spines of the books. 'Yes, I think that helps quite a bit, actually.'

'You know what it is?' Buffy asked.

'I've got a theory.' Giles did not look up. 'Blast! The books I need are over at _The Magic Box_.' He stepped away from the bookcase. 'Why don't we all meet back there this afternoon. That would give me some time to do a little research into the subject.'

'We could help,' Tara suggested, 'couldn't we, Willow?'

'Just call us the researcher-gals,' Willow agreed.

'Do you want to meet me there?' Giles asked, throwing his keys to Willow. 'There are some…things…I need to sort out around the house first.'

'Sounds like a plan,' Buffy said. 'And it gives me a chance to keep looking for Dawn.'

'Good luck!' Giles called after her as Buffy led the other girls outside.

The front door banged closed and Giles took a half-empty bottle of Scotch from the kitchen counter and poured himself a glass. It was a bit early in the morning, but if his theory was right then he needed this.

'I thought they'd never leave,' Jenny Calendar remarked from the top of the stairs. She was wearing one of Giles' shirts and little else.

'Be fair,' Giles chided her gently. 'There is a lot going on at the moment.'

'Does that mean you're going to have to go out, Rupert?' Jenny asked as she descended the stairs.

'Well, they do need my help,' Giles explained.

'Right now?' Jenny asked.

She was standing in front of him, her lips curled in a sly smile.

'I suppose I could be persuaded to stay for a little while,' Giles admitted.

Jenny took the glass from him and set it down on the counter. With his free hand, Giles brushed her dark hair away from her ear.

'You didn't tell them about me, did you, Rupert?' Jenny whispered as Giles pulled her closer.

'You asked me not to,' Giles replied.

Jenny used two hands to remove his glasses and put them to one side.

'I know, but they're your friends.'

'And you're not?' Giles asked.

'Always,' Jenny promised as Giles lifted her up into his arms.

Wrapped around each other, they made their way up the staircase and into the bedroom. Giles gently lay Jenny down on to the bed and she stretched her arms above her head, fingers curling around the headboard. On his hands and knees, Giles loomed above her.

'Rupert,' Jenny began, 'You do realise that you haven't called me 'Jenny' once since I've been back?'

'I know,' Giles replied and then he kissed her. 


	10. Strange Brew

Chapter Nine - Strange Brew

'What's he doing here?' Buffy demanded.

Joyce Summers was sitting at the kitchen table, a mug of coffee and a tin of biscuits in front of her. Spike was sitting opposite her, away from the windows. He also had a mug of coffee, but his appeared to be untouched.

'Leaving,' Spike replied, getting to his feet.

'No, stay,' Joyce ordered. She turned her attention to her daughter. 'Spike's been out looking for your sister.'

Buffy folded her arms.

'Now why would he want to do that?' she said. 'What's your game, Spike?'

'Did it ever occur to you that I might actually like the little bit?' Spike replied. 'She doesn't put on as many airs as her big sister.' He turned to Joyce. 'Sorry. We should probably take this discussion some place else.'

'Don't worry on my account,' Joyce replied.

'So, you were looking for Dawn,' Buffy said. 'That still doesn't explain what you're doing here.'

'He came to let me know what he'd found,' Joyce explained.

'Which was?' Buffy prompted.

Spike directed his answer to Joyce.

'I think,' he began, 'I don't know, but I think her trail heads north into the woods. I lost it after that.'

'Well, perhaps you'd better get out and find it again,' Buffy snapped.

'Hel-lo!' Spike retorted. 'In case you haven't noticed it's daylight outside. I can hardly track your sister if I'm an untidy pile of ash on the pavement, now can I? Soon as I'm done here I'm heading straight back to my crypt for a kip.'

Buffy stepped away from the door.

'Trust me, you're done.'

'Buffy!' Joyce protested.

'No, it's okay,' Spike insisted. 'I should be getting back.'

He picked up the blanket that was draped over the back of the chair and wrapped it round himself. Then he opened the front door and ran for his car. Buffy was sure she saw a lick of flame as the vampire opened the car door. Shame.

'Buffy, that was uncalled for,' Joyce reprimanded her.

'Oh come on,' Buffy replied. 'You just know he's up to something.'

'Enlighten me,' Joyce suggested.

'Well, he's Spike,' Buffy explained. 'He's a _vampire_.'

'So was Angel,' Joyce pointed out.

'Oh you can't compare…' Buffy began. 'It's totally different.'

'Well I guess you'll have to explain that to me,' Joyce replied, 'because from where I sit, all I can see is a man trying to help out. Which is more than I can say for you.'

'What do you mean?' Buffy protested. 'I've been out searching all night!'

'And if you'd bothered to look after Dawn like I asked then she wouldn't be missing in the first place!'

'I had to patrol. You _know_ that. Xander offered to take her home. You were supposed to be here.'

'I got delayed,' Joyce explained. 'One of the crates didn't arrive and I was on the phone trying to find out what had happened to it. I didn't think it would matter since Dawn was with you.'

'I can't be expected to look out for her every second of the day!' Buffy protested.

'Buffy, she's your sister,' Joyce replied. 'If I can't trust you to take care of her who can I trust?'

'That's not…'

The phone rang.

Buffy picked it up from its rest on the wall and listened to the voice on the other end.

'Mom, it's Riley,' she explained as she put the phone down. 'He's woken up. I've gotta go.'

* * *

Riley fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. His fingers felt numb and unnaturally large which made dressing a slow and frustrating process.

'Are you decent?'

Buffy poked her blonde head round the door.

'Just about,' Riley responded.

'Shame.'

The rest of Buffy followed her head into the private room Riley had been given.

Riley tried a slight smile and instantly regretted it. Was there any part of his body that did not ache?

'Any chance of a hand up?' he asked.

Buffy took him by his forearms and pulled.

'Ow! Careful, Buffy,' Riley admonished. 'I'm feeling a bit fragile at the moment.'

Buffy's face crumpled with concern.

'Sorry. Guess I forgot my own strength, huh?'

'Trust me,' Riley grunted, 'it's not something I'm going to forget in a hurry.'

His legs buckled and he shot out an arm to steady himself against the wall.

Buffy rushed over to help support him.

'Are you okay?'

'Sure. I just got up a bit fast,' Riley admitted. 'Give me some time to get my breath back. A week should cover it.'

Buffy frowned.

'Are you sure you should be up?' Buffy asked. 'What do the doctors say?'

'They want to keep me in for a few more days for 'observation',' Riley explained.

'And you're not listening to the people who should know because?'

'Another hour in here and my brain will turn to mush,' Riley replied. 'Besides, it's not like this is the first time I've had someone poking about in here.'

He tapped his chest.

'But enough about me,' Riley continued, 'what's been happening while I've been having my nap? Is it just me or are you looking a little under the weather?'

'It's just…nothing,' Buffy lied.

'Buffy,' Riley scolded.

'It's…well…Dawn's missing,' Buffy admitted.

'Dawn's missing,' Riley repeated. 'And that's your idea of nothing?'

'I didn't want to worry you,' Buffy stammered. 'Not yet.'

Riley smiled. 'Buffy, I said I was feeling fragile. I'm not falling apart.'

'I know, it's just I worry about you.'

Riley took her in his arms and held her close.

'Well let _me_ worry about _you_ for a change,' he said. 'Now tell me what happened.'

Buffy told him.

'I've checked her room,' she concluded. 'There's no sign of a struggle.'

'Interesting,' Riley mused. 'If she's been taken by one of those golden guys you'd think they'd leave more of a mess. Was anything missing?'

Buffy thought for a minute.

'Her jacket was gone,' she said.

'So, there was no struggle and she remembered to take her jacket,' Riley surmised. 'Sounds to me like she left willingly.'

'You think?' Buffy asked hopefully. 'I guess it wouldn't be the first time she snuck out by herself.'

'Guess she gets it from her sister,' Riley commented.

'Hey!' Buffy raised her arm to poke him in the ribs, then thought better of it. 'That doesn't explain where she is, though, or why she hasn't called.'

'One word. Teenager.'

'I guess.' Buffy still sounded sceptical. 'Hey. How come you know so much about rebellious teens anyway? Are you telling me you've got a wild side I don't know about yet?'

'Who, me?' Riley asked innocently. 'C'mon, let's go check me out of here.'

'Thanks,' Buffy said as they left the hospital room.

'For what?' Riley asked.

'For making me a bit less worried than I was before.'

'Don't mention it,' Riley said before mentally adding _I'm worried enough for the both of us_.

* * *

Tara and Anya were on opposite sides of a table at the back of _The Magic Box_. The stack of books between them meant that they could not see each other without getting up, but the gentle sound of turning pages let each know that the other was still present. Giles had a book in his hands and was pacing the length of the shop as he read. He found that pacing helped him to think and since there were no customers today - it being a Sunday - he had plenty of space to take advantage of.

The bell tinkled as the front door swung open.

'Hey Buffy. Riley,' Willow called out as she descended the ladder. She had been examining the books upstairs.

'Hey Will,' Buffy called back.

'Riley,' Giles said, gently closing his book and placing it on the counter. 'It's good to see you, ah, up and about.'

'It takes more than that to keep me down,' Riley joked. Then his face crumbled in pain and he doubled over. 'Probably not much more, though,' he continued through gritted teeth.

'Here, let me help you.' Giles helped Riley to a chair next to Tara and the younger man sat down gratefully.

'Are you all r-right?' Tara asked shyly.

'I'm getting there,' Riley responded, favouring her with a smile.

'Any news?' Buffy asked Giles.

Giles shook his head. 'Your mother is telephoning all of Dawn's friends to see if she may have turned up there, but so far…'

'We're doing everything we can,' Willow promised.

'I know,' Buffy responded quietly.

The bell rang again and Xander Harris bounded through the door.

'Ladies and Gentlemen,' he pronounced, 'I give you 'The Human Torch'!'

Spike burst into the room. The blanket over his head had caught fire and, as soon as he was inside, Spike threw the blanket to the ground and began stamping on it to put it out.

Buffy beamed at Xander.

'I suppose you think that makes you Mr Fantastic?' she said.

'Only if you can be Invisible Girl,' he quipped.

'Hey!' Riley said.

'Hey!' Anya echoed.

'What's with the 'heyness', An?' Xander asked. 'You've no more idea what I'm talking about than the G-Man over there.'

'Well, that's true,' Anya admitted sulkily, 'but I'm sure you deserved it.'

'She's right you know,' Buffy commented.

'If you've all quite finished speaking in tongues,' Giles interjected, 'I believe we've made a few discoveries you might be interested in.'

Spike raised a hand.

'I'm not,' he said. 'Can I go now?'

'Spike, I asked Xander to fetch you here for a reason,' Giles said, 'and, believe it or not, it wasn't for your intellectual contribution.'

'Because a shopkeeper knows so much more about demons than, say, a demon,' Spike retorted. 'So what is it I'm here for?'

'If you would let me get a word in edgeways you might find out,' Giles snapped.

'What's a vampire got to do to get some kip round here?' Spike muttered, sitting down on a set of steps by one of the bookcases. 'There was a time when the night part of creature of the night actually meant something.'

Buffy folded her arms.

'So, what have you found?' she asked.

'Well, Tara found it,' Giles admitted.

'And 'it' is?' Xander asked. 'Other than an excuse to keep us all in suspense.'

'Tara?' Giles prompted.

Tara glanced at Willow.

'Well,' she began slowly, 'I've been l-looking for references to the Cauldron of the Dagda. It seems to be part of Irish legend.'

'Dagda was a god in Celtic myth,' Giles explained. 'He was also referred to as 'the Good'. His daughter was Dana, also known as Brigit, and she herself had a son called Ecne.'

'And the point of this riveting family history is?' Buffy asked.

Giles removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

'From Ecne sprung the race called the _Tuatha de Danann_, literally 'the people of the god whose mother is Dana.''

'The descriptions in the texts match the things we fought last night,' Tara interjected.

'So we have a name,' Buffy said. 'An unpronounceable Irish name. Is that it? Because I should really be out there looking for Dawn.'

'Buffy, I understand your frustrations,' Giles replied, 'but given that Dawn disappeared on the same night creatures from legend start showing up, I find it difficult not to believe there's a connection. The more we can find out about these Tuatha creatures, the more chance we have of locating Dawn.'

Riley offered his hand and Buffy took it and squeezed.

'So, where do we start?'

'They're looking for this cauldron,' Riley said. 'We find it, we find them. Heck, if we find it first it might give us something to bargain with.'

'I didn't know you cut deals with demons,' Spike said. 'I thought you just neutered them.'

'No, we just save that for the special cases,' Riley retorted.

'Boys,' Buffy warned. 'We have bigger issues.'

'You may have…' Spike began.

Buffy glared.

Spike shut up.

'Riley's got a point,' Willow said. 'They've got something we want. We need to find something they want.'

'And barter is an accepted practice among most civilised demon-kind,' Anya pointed out.

'Yay for those civilised demons,' Xander commented, before withering under Anya's glare.

'I feel it necessary to point out that we don't know for sure that the Tuatha even have Dawn,' Giles said, 'but Riley's plan still has merit.'

'All of which doesn't answer the central question,' Buffy said. 'What is this thing?'

'The Tuatha came from four cities,' Tara continued, 'Falias, Gorias, Finias and Murias. And from each city they brought a magical treasure. These were…' She paused and reached for another book. 'S-sorry about that. Here it is. A magic spear from Finias, the Stone of Destiny from Falias, the Sword of Lugh from Gorias and the Cauldron of the Dagda from Murias.'

'Yes, but what is it?' Buffy persisted.

'Well, the great treasures of the Dananns have persisted throughout legend for thousands of years,' Giles responded. 'The spear, for example, is believed by some to be the Spear of Longinus.'

'The what?' Buffy asked.

'Spear that pierced the side of Christ,' Riley explained softly.

'Precisely,' Giles agreed. The Sword of Lugh may be an early form of the welsh Caladvwlch or Excalibur.'

'And the Cauldron?' Buffy asked. 'What's that supposed to be?'

'The Holy Grail,' Tara said. 'What else?'

Riley stared at her.

'_The_ Holy Grail?' he asked. 'As in the cup Christ used at the Last Supper?'

'I-it's just a theory,' Tara stammered.

'Which happens to make sense,' Willow said, interposing herself between Tara and Riley. 'Now back off.'

'I'm sorry,' Riley said, the edge in his voice softening. 'It's just, this is my faith and I don't like it being mixed up with all this magic and monster stuff.'

'Welcome to the real world,' Spike quipped.

Willow turned on him.

'You think this is funny, do you?' she snapped. 'Faith is important to some of us.'

'What, you think there's some great divine force that's going to wash away your sins? You think then when all this is over you'll go up to heaven complete with candyfloss clouds and harp playing bleedin' angels?' Spike sneered. 'Doesn't work like that, love. I'm un-living proof of that.'

Giles was standing by a cabinet, taking items from the shelves and lifting them to the light to examine them.

'So you see yourself as proof of the absence of God, do you, Spike?' he asked absently.

'Well, yeah,' Spike replied.

'Catch!' Giles picked an item off the shelf and tossed it in Spike's direction.

The vampire instinctively reached out and caught it. Smoke immediately began to rise from his hands and Spike cried out in pain, dropping the cross to the floor.

'Sometimes the simple demonstrations are the most effective,' Giles said.

Willow was fighting to keep a smug smile from her face.

'Not one word,' Spike warned her, 'or I swear I'll forget I've got this chip in my head.'

Willow ignored him and turned back to Riley.

'I'm Jewish,' she explained, 'but I guess I wouldn't want someone mucking about with my faith either.'

'Nor me,' Tara said.

'Forgiven?' Riley asked her.

Tara smiled and nodded.

'Okay,' Riley said, taking a deep breath. 'So, whether I like it or not, we're looking for the Holy Grail. Shame no one knows where it is.'

'Well, actually,' Giles began, 'I do.'


	11. Riders On The Storm

Chapter Ten - Riders on the Storm

Buffy blinked.

'You do?'

Xander jumped to his feet.

'Let me get this straight,' he said. 'You know where to find the Holy Grail. _The _Holy Grail. Y'know, source of _eternal life_. And you didn't think to tell anybody?'

'Yes,' Anya agreed. 'Consider the marketing possibilities.'

'Anya,' Buffy said, 'I'm not sure that's the point.'

'No,' Xander responded, 'for once I think I agree with Anya on this.'

'Thank you.' Anya said. 'I think.'

'I'm afraid it's not quite that simple,' Giles protested.

'Never is,' Spike remarked.

'About two hundred and fifty years ago, an historian, Antoine de Valliere, discovered a series of manuscripts held in a church in Blois that seemed to describe the history of the Grail post its connection with King Arthur. De Valliere had been a life-long student of Arthurian legend, though he let his studies lapse in the pursuit of his…duties. Now in enforced retirement, he was able to pursue the trail set out in these manuscripts and see where it led.

'De Valliere's route took him from the Welsh hills, through Champagne in France and then south across Europe. For eleven years he pursued his quest, guided by the Blois manuscripts and embellishing their account with clues picked up on his journey. A mistranslation sent him on a wild goose chase to North Africa, but it was speaking to a merchant in Algiers that sent him rushing back to Venice. And it was there that everything finally fell in to place.'

'So you're saying the Grail's in Venice, then,' Xander deduced.

Giles shook his head.

'Venice is simply the final resting place of one of the Grail Knights, the Grail's appointed guardians,' he explained. 'But it was clues found in his tomb that allowed de Valliere to finally pinpoint the location of the Grail. It's located in Glastonbury. In England. And before he died, de Valliere passed on this information to the Watchers' Council.'

'Back up,' Buffy said. 'He told the Council? How did he even now about you guys? I thought you were supposed to be like the Secret Society of Super-Villains or something.'

'Yes. Quite.' Giles paused, then continued. 'He knew because he was one of us.'

'Sir Valiant was a librarian?' Xander exclaimed. 'Man, you guys get everywhere. Like roaches.'

'You're thinking of the IRS, honey,' Anya told him. 'They're bred that way.

'Actually, de Valliere was a Watcher,' Giles explained patiently.

'Wow,' Buffy said.

'Xander's right,' Willow commented. 'You guys do get everywhere.'

'You said he was in enforced retirement, right,' Buffy recalled. 'So what was that all about?'

Giles removed his glasses.

'His…health…was suffering,' he replied, not looking at Buffy.

'His health?' she asked.

Giles was focussed on a particular speck of dust on the left lens.

'I'd rather not say any more,' he said.

'You'd rather not say,' Buffy repeated. 'What, you think I can't deal?

'Aw, c'mon, Giles, you can tell us,' Xander persisted. 'How bad can it be?'

'His Slayer died,' Giles snapped. 'Are you happy now, Xander? De Valliere didn't cope with the loss at all well and the Council decided that…that it might be better for all concerned if he was kept away from any future Slayers.'

He replaced his glasses.

'I'm sorry,' he said to Buffy.

'S'okay,' she managed. 'It was a long time ago, right?'

But Riley had stood and put an arm about her to support her.

'A very long time ago,' Giles agreed.

'But if you knew where the Grail was,' Willow asked, 'why didn't you, well, go get it?'

'The Grail is an object of immense power,' Giles replied, 'and, if it fell into the wrong hands, that power could all too easily be abused. The shrine at Glastonbury is well-protected, both physically and mystically, and the Council decided that it might be in everyone's best interest if the Grail was left there.'

'Some things are best left undiscovered,' Tara agreed.

'Of course, now we actually need the damn thing,' Anya surmised, 'so the question is: who gets sent to get it?'

'I can't go,' Buffy announced. 'I've got to stay. To look for Dawn.'

'I understand,' Giles said. 'I suspected as much.'

'I'll go,' Riley said.

'I'll go, too,' Xander said. 'Alex at work owes me a favour. He'll cover for me while I'm gone.'

'Must be some favour,' Willow remarked.

'You won't be gone long, will you?' Anya asked. 'You know I can't stand it when you're away.'

Hey, you heard Giles, Ann,' Xander said. He put his hands on her bare upper arms and rubbed gently. 'We go, we get the cup, we come straight back. You won't even notice I'm gone.'

'You really think so?' Anya asked, brightening up.

'Well,' Xander said sceptically, 'it would be kinda nice if you did miss me.'

'So you want me to be unhappy?' Anya frowned.

'Well, no, of course not,' Xander responded rapidly. 'It's just that…'

Riley put a hand on his shoulder.

'I'd quit now, if I were you,' he suggested. 'Or would you like a shovel for that hole you're digging?'

He turned to Anya.

'Don't worry,' he assured her, 'I'll bring him back safe and sound.'

'You'd better,' Xander told Riley. 'She can do nasty things to men she's upset with.'

'So I've heard,' Riley replied. 'Looks like it's just you and me then.'

'Spike's going too,' Giles said.

'No way!' Riley and Xander said simultaneously.

'With Buffy staying here, you'll need his strength to back you up,' Giles persisted.

'We can handle ourselves,' Xander protested.

Giles sighed.

'I know you mean well, Xander, but you are hardly superhuman. And Riley's still recovering from a serious injury.'

'But…'

'No, Xander. He's right,' Riley admitted. 'I don't like it, but he's right.'

'Do I get a say in all this?' Spike asked.

'No!' Riley, Xander and Giles pronounced.

Spike folded his arms and leaned against the bookcase.

'I could just refuse to go,' he said.

'You know, those Tuatha things didn't seem too taken with you,' Buffy remarked.

'What was it they called you?' Riley asked. 'A stain?'

'An infestation,' Buffy said. 'Seems to me you could just stay here and then, when they fail, get torn apart by the new posse in town. But at least you'd still have your pride.'

'You know what, Summers?' Spike said. 'Sometimes I really hate you.'

Buffy pointed to herself and the Spike.

'I'm a Slayer. You're a vampire. Go figure.'

'Anyway, how are you going to get me there?' Spike demanded. 'I can hardly fly. What if it's daylight when we land? What then?'

'You get an all over tan and we all live happily ever after?' Xander suggested.

'Just leave the arrangements to me,' Riley said.

'Well, that really fills me with confidence,' Spike shot back.

There was silence for a few minutes.

'If I'm not needed, I'd better go pack,' Xander said at last.

'I'll help,' Anya said. 'You know you'll only forget something if I let you do it yourself.'

'What, like my fourth pair of shoes?'

'We'd better go too,' Willow said. 'That is, unless you need us to do more research.'

'No, you've already done more than your fair share,' Giles told her. 'But if you could stop by tomorrow..?'

'We will,' Willow agreed and, hand in hand with Tara, she followed Xander and Anya from the shop.

'Well, if you won't be needing me anymore,' Spike began, 'I'll be off. See if I can't get at least a couple of hours sleep before it gets dark.'

'Just go Spike,' Buffy said.

The door slammed closed behind him.

'Guess I'd better patrol,' Buffy said. 'I want to do another sweep for Dawn. Wanna come with.'

'You go, I'll catch up,' Riley replied.

'Okay,' Buffy said, looking a bit disappointed as she left.

Riley watched her go and then turned to Giles.

'So what aren't you telling us?' he asked.

'I'm sorry?'

'The others may buy all that 'objects best left alone' stuff, but you and I know better,' Riley continued. 'If I'm going after this thing I deserve to know the real deal.'

Giles considered.

'Yes,' he said. 'You do.'

He sat down and motioned for Riley to do the same.

'When the Council learned of the Grail's location, they immediately dispatched an agent to Glastonbury to retrieve it. He never returned. So they sent three and they didn't come back. Then they sent six and they were never heard from again. And then they sent twelve…'

'Yes, I think I get the picture,' Riley interrupted.

'Yes, well, the point is that for the first two or three decades the Council threw people at this thing without any result so eventually they just gave up,' Giles explained. 'Whatever the wards around that shrine are they are extremely powerful. And deadly.'

He took of his glasses and looked directly into Riley's eyes.

'No one is going to think any less of you if you back out of this,' he said. 'There's nothing to be gained in throwing your life away.'

'This is our best chance of getting Dawn back,' Riley said.

'Yes, I think so.'

'And you think we have a chance?'

'The Council…aren't terribly imaginative,' Giles said. 'Whatever technique they used on the first expedition I suspect they repeated on all the subsequent ones, just with a bit more force. A fresh approach might be all it takes.'

'In that case, how can I not go?' Riley asked.

'Good man,' Giles said. 'I'll see if I can't get you some extra help over there. I may not be part of the Council anymore, but I still have some friends.'

'Thanks,' Riley responded. 'Look, I'd better go. I'm supposed to be catching up with Buffy and I'm not exactly on top form right now.'

Giles nodded and Riley got up to leave.

Giles waited until Riley had opened the door before asking, 'Why do you do it?'

'Do what?'

'Fight the monsters,' Giles explained. 'I do it because my parents forced me into it. Buffy's the Chosen One. And the others - Willow and Xander - they do it because of, well, because of Buffy. But you, you've been doing this since before she came along. Why is that, if you don't mind me asking?' 

Riley shrugged.

'I guess it just seemed like the right thing to do,' he said. 'Is there anything else?'

Giles shook his head and Riley walked away. The door clicked closed behind him.

In silence, Giles reached for one of the books stacked on the table and wondered why Riley had lied to him.


	12. Why Do I Feel So Sad

Chapter Eleven - Why Do I Feel So Sad

'You want me to travel in a bloody _coffin_?'

'Yep, that's about the size of it,' Riley told Spike.

'Look, I don't know what they told you back home, but some of us vamps have standards,' Spike said.

'You'll have to introduce me to them some time,' Riley replied. 'You're still going in that coffin.'

'You have to admit the idea has some merit,' Giles said. He kept glancing back towards the counter, ostensibly to check on Anya, but in reality to hide the growing smirk on his face.

'Yeah,' Xander agreed. 'With the lid on you'll be protected from sunlight and if they do open it up, what're they gonna find? A dead body, what else?'

'And if they happen to open it up outside?' Spike asked.

'Well, I'm not gonna lose any sleep over it,' Xander replied.

'I think you'll find that they'll treat a dead body with a certain amount of respect,' Giles commented. 'They're hardly likely to open up a coffin in the middle of the runway.'

'Just remember,' Spike warned, 'if I do go up in smoke I'll be back to haunt the bloody lot of you.'

'And you just know he would,' Xander quipped.

'Enough already,' Riley said. 'You're William Harris, recently deceased and being shipped back to England by your brother to be buried with the rest of your family.'

'Hey, how come he has to be my brother?' Xander demanded.

'Because I made the arrangements,' Riley replied. 'With a little help from Willow, I've managed to get us all booked on a flight to Heathrow tonight. The plane leaves at ten-twenty so we'll need to be there for eight. Think you can manage that?'

'I'll be there,' Spike answered grudgingly, 'but you lot owe me big time.'

'Whatever,' Xander said dismissively. 'I just hope they've got a decent movie.'

* * *

Willow plunged the plate into the soapy water and wiped it clean. She handed it to Tara who proceeded to dry it and set it to one side.

'Willow,' Tara began, picking up a glass from the draining board, 'are you okay? You seem a little…'

'A little what?' Willow asked as Tara trailed off.

'Oh, I don't know. Tense, I guess.'

'Tense? Me?' Willow asked. 'Whatever gives you that idea?'

'Willow, if you scrub that plate any harder there won't be a pattern left,' Tara remarked.

'Oh. Right.' Willow passed the plate to Tara for drying. 'Maybe I am a little tense, but _hello_, Dawn's missing. And there's these Tuatha things tearing up town. And, well, the monsters normally stay out of our room.'

'That got to you too, huh?' Tara put down the plate and began to stroke Willow's hair. 'That explains why you had trouble sleeping last night.'

'So, you noticed that.'

'What, you think I could sleep either?' Tara remarked.

'You should have said something,' Willow responded, looking up at Tara from hooded eyes. 'Maybe we could have helped each other.'

'Vixen!' Tara moved her hands down from Willow's hair and began to massage her shoulders. 'That better?'

'Mmm, yes.' Willow leant back into her companion, head tilted back, eyes closed. A smile spread across her face, exposing her front teeth.

'You know, you look like a chipmunk when you do that,' Tara said.

Willow opened one eye and looked at her.

'A very sexy chipmunk,' Tara amended.

The eye closed.

'It's not just the monsters,' Willow said as Tara worked the tension from her shoulder blades. 'It's this whole thing. I mean, _Holy Grail_. That's something pretty special.'

'We've come across magical artefacts before,' Tara said.

'Yes, but they were all really ancient, y'know, like Egyptian and Sumerian and whatever,' Willow explained, 'but this? This is different. This is supposed to be the cup used by Jesus Christ. It just takes the weirdness to a whole new level of, well, weird.'

'I didn't think you believed in Christ?' Tara said.

'I don't,' Willow said. 'But, if the Grail exists then doesn't that mean I'm wrong? And then there was Giles' stunt with the cross yesterday. It freaks me out.'

'Ah, poor baby.' Tara stooped down to whisper in Willow's ear. Her breath was ticklish. 'My mother taught me that all faiths have some elements of truth in them, but they're all distorted reflections of a much older belief system.'

'That explains why you're always so calm about this stuff.' Willow frowned. 'Mom always told me to respect other people's faiths, but that ours was the true one. What with all the stuff I've seen since Buffy came along, I guess I'm just finding that harder and harder to accept. But what am I supposed to believe?'

'You'll figure it out,' Tara assured her. 'Give it time.'

She bent forward and nipped Willow's earlobe with her teeth.

'Hey!' Willow cried.

'What?' Tara looked hurt.

Willow glanced around the communal kitchen area.

'Don't you think we should go somewhere a bit more private?'

* * *

Xander lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Anya, lying next to him, was tracing circles on his chest with her finger.

'Do you really have to go?' she asked.

'An,' Xander sighed, 'for what must be the six hundredth time, yes, I really have to go. It's fate of the world stuff.'

'You sure I can't persuade you to stay?' Anya said, sliding her hand beneath the covers.

'It's not that I don't appreciate the effort, honey,' Xander explained, 'but - and I really can't believe I'm saying this - there's only so much a man can take in one afternoon.'

Anya pouted and rolled over on to her back.

'Fine, be like that then,' she said. 'I bet Buffy doesn't have this problem with Riley.'

'Now that's not fair,' Xander exclaimed. 'Riley's like a chemically-enhanced super-soldier. Y'know, like Captain America. Only I'm guessing that's not what they had in mind when they made him. Besides this isn't about the sex.'

'No?' Anya asked sceptically. 'Why else would you want to spend time away from me? You practically jumped at the chance to fly away.'

'An, I don't want to be away from you,' Xander insisted. 'It's just that, well, sometimes there are things that are bigger than both of us and it's important that you make a stand for what you believe is right.'

'And you think it's right to leave me?'

'Yes. No! It's not like that,' Xander replied. 'Dawn's in trouble. Demons are tearing up Sunnydale looking for the Grail. Don't you want me to put a stop to it?'

'Well, yes,' Anya answered, 'but couldn't you do it from here?'

'I don't know what the big deal is?' Xander continued. 'I'll only be gone, what, a few days.'

'I know, it's just, well, I keep feeling there's something I should remember, something important,' Anya said, 'and I'm worried that if I can't remember then you're going to get hurt and it'll all be my fault and I'm scared and I didn't get scared as a demon and it's a horrible swirly feeling like someone's installed a washing machine in my stomach and…'

'Hey, take a breath, Anya,' Xander suggested. 'Come here.'

He wrapped his girlfriend in a comforting embrace.

'I'll be fine,' he promised. 'You'll see.'

'You're sure?' Anya asked. 'I don't want them sending you home in lots of little boxes.'

'Not exactly high on my wish list either,' Xander said. 'Now, come on. We'd better hurry or I'll miss my plane. Unless that was your cunning plan all along.'

Anya gave him her most innocent look.

* * *

Giles was sitting on the edge of the bed doing up his shoelaces.

'I just feel I'm missing something really obvious,' he said.

'I'll say,' Jenny called back over the noise of the shower.

'I never really gave much thought to the Arthur legend,' Giles continued, moving on to the other shoe. 'I knew parts of it were true, but most of it I classed as invention, something to be put in the same category as _The Lord of the Rings_.'

'Rupert! You've actually read something published within the last hundred years? I'm impressed.'

'Skim-read it,' Giles admitted. 'What puzzles me is why the Tuatha de Danann think that the Grail is Sunnydale.'

Jenny turned off the shower.

'Maybe it's just a coincidence,' she said. 'We are on a hellmouth, after all. Maybe it's just a convenient portal between their dimension and ours.'

'No, there's more to it than that,' Giles said. 'One of them specifically told Willow and Tara that he had been told that the Cauldron was here. Now who would have told them that, do you suppose?'

'Does it matter?' Jenny asked as she entered the bedroom. She had a large towel wrapped around her and was using another to dry her hair. 'You don't happen to have a hair dryer around here, do you?'

'No, sorry about that,' Giles apologised.

Jenny shrugged.

'Whatever. Anyway it's probably just some demon informant giving these guys duff information. So long as they pay up front, what does he care?'

'You're probably right,' Giles admitted, 'but it would be reassuring to know for sure.'

'I wouldn't worry about it.' Jenny bent down and kissed the top of his head. 'Now, aren't you supposed to be taking Buffy to the airport?'

'Yes, of course,' Giles said. He glanced at his watch. 'Dear Lord, I'd better be going. Are you sure you won't come with me?'

'Dressed like this?' Jenny joked. 'No, I'll stay here, thanks. I doubt the others are quite ready to meet a ghost yet.'

* * *

The gang stood in the car park next to Giles' BMW watching the sky. The plane carrying Riley, Xander and Spike roared overhead and disappeared into the distance.

'How are you holding up?' Giles asked Buffy.

'Honestly. Not a clue,' Buffy replied. 'I mean, I guess I should feel something. Dawn's missing, Mom's not speaking to me and now Riley's gone. But I don't feel anything much. Just kind of numb inside. Is that wrong?'

Giles shrugged. 

'I've never been very good at understanding the human condition,' he admitted.

'Yeah, that's right,' Buffy agreed. 'You prefer the company of books to the company of us real human beings.'

'That's a little harsh,' Giles protested. 'Fair, but harsh.'

He shared a smile with Buffy.

'At least I've still got you,' Buffy said.

'For as long as you need me,' Giles agreed. 'How is your mother?'

'Stressed,' Buffy replied. 'Panicky. Trying to hide it. She's throwing herself into her work at the gallery, but she's falling apart. I guess it must have been like this when _I_ ran off, huh?'

'That was a difficult time for all of us,' Giles told her.

'It doesn't help having the police around asking all sorts of stupid questions,' Buffy continued. 'And it's not like they're going to do anything. They're too busy trying to solve these murders. That's probably the only question I could have answered for them.'

'There were fifteen more deaths last night,' Giles explained. 'Our Tuatha friends are stepping up their activities.'

'I spotted one of them on patrol last night,' Buffy said. 'I fought him to a standstill and he eventually ran off, but boy was he strong. I don't think I can kill these things, Giles.'

'Then we must make researching their weaknesses out next priority,' Giles told her. 'We can beat this thing, Buffy. We just need to work out how.'

'Yes sir, general, sir.' Buffy saluted. 'I feel suitably inspired.'

Giles frowned.

'Joke,' Buffy explained.

'Ah yes, of course. How silly of me not to notice.' He gestured to his car. 'Right then, everybody in.'

Tara, Willow and Anya piled into the back seat.

'They never seemed this keen to ride in my old car,' Giles remarked.

'And that still surprises you?' Buffy asked as she climbed into the passenger seat. 'I despair.'

Giles started the engine and eased the convertible away from the airport.

'So, what's the plan?' Buffy asked.

'Well, I'm going to drop you all home and you're going to get a decent night's sleep.'

Buffy began to protest, but Giles cut her off.

'You'll need the rest,' he insisted, 'because tomorrow we start to tackle this problem in earnest. Not only do we need to locate Dawn, but we need to find some way of fighting the Tuatha, find out what they want with the Grail we have to try to stop them from killing any more people until Riley returns.'

'Just a normal Tuesday night in Sunnydale, then,' Buffy remarked.


	13. I'm Feeling Fine

Chapter Twelve - I'm Feeling Fine

'Sir?'

'I'm sorry?' Riley glanced up at the stewardess hovering beside his seat.

'Would you like a drink, sir?' the stewardess repeated.

'No,' Riley told her. He smiled at her, showing his teeth. 'No, thank you.'

The stewardess beamed back. She was cute, Riley mused, then chided himself for such thoughts. Buffy would not approve.

'Is everything all right, sir?' the stewardess asked.

Cute and perceptive, Riley thought as he amended his mental description of her.

'I'm fine, thank you,' he insisted. 'Just a little…distracted.'

And who wouldn't be, what with the fate of the world resting on his shoulders. Well, Xander for one. He was snoring softly in the seat next to him. He had gone out like a light almost as soon as he had sat down, not even staying up for the movie. Not that he had missed much.

While Xander may be able to sleep through the end of the world, it made Riley nervous. There was a lot riding on him and his 'squad'. He nearly laughed out loud at that. A neutered vampire and a carpenter. How the mighty had fallen. If the world was in their hands then maybe now would be a good time to start looking for a new one.

But despite all of that, Riley had not felt this alive in months. Since the Initiative he had felt as if he were drifting without a purpose. He missed that. Sure, Buffy had come long and opened his eyes, shown him that all he had been told was a lie, but before that, those had good times. Professor Walsh had found him and given him a purpose, a mission and so what if that mission had been false, at least then he had had direction. Now he could not help feeling like a soldier without a war.

He got to patrol with Buffy, of course, to help the Slayer in her battle against the forces of darkness, but he was just tagging along in someone else's fight. He wasn't even part of the top team. No, those positions were reserved for Giles and Willow and - and this was the real kick in the head - Xander. Riley was relegated to the also-rans, the second stringers.

Was he being unfair? He loved Buffy, loved her more than he had believed possible. He remembered his mother once, while they were both sitting on the porch, telling him how she and his father had met. At the time he had felt that she had overly romanticised her account. Now he wondered if perhaps she had not done it justice. And it was not Buffy's fault that the Initiative had turned out to be the enemy. But then why was there still this emptiness inside of him?

He shook his head to clear it.

None of that mattered, not right now. He had a job to do, a mission, a purpose. People were counting on him and he was not about to let them down, not if he any say in the matter.

* * *

He had had to wake Xander up as they came in to land. Half asleep, Xander had mistaken him for Anya and muttered a number of things Riley could have gone his whole life without hearing. He was still playing the visual in his mind as he stood by the payphone watching Xander retrieve their luggage, what little of it there was, from the carousel.

The phone rang and Riley snatched up the receiver.

Fifteen seconds later, he replaced the receiver and crossed to Xander. 

'You okay with these?' Riley asked.

'Just…peachy,' Xander gasped as he hauled his case off the conveyer belt and onto the cart. Anya had helped him pack.

'Good,' Riley said. 'Listen, I've got an errand to run. I'll meet you outside.'

'An errand?' Xander repeated. 'But…'

But Riley was already striding away.

* * *

There was a coffee shop on the other side of the terminal building. The place was packed and Riley slid into an empty seat opposite a young man in a white T-shirt and faded blue jeans.

'You're late,' the young man said. 'Hardly the Agent Finn I've heard so much about.'

'Stick it in your ear, Marc,' Riley said with a lopsided grin. 'Long time no see.'

'Too long, Riley, too long,' Marc said, extending an arm across the table. Riley took his hand and gave it a firm shake.

'How's civilian life treating you?' Marc asked.

'It has its perks,' Riley told him.

'Yes, I'd heard about her.' Marc took a sip of his coffee to hide his smirk. 'You should try the espresso. It's just about palatable, which, for an airport, is saying quite a bit.'

'Maybe next time,' Riley said, 'but I'm not here on a social call. Did you bring the stuff I asked for?'

'Right here,' Marc said, indicating the briefcase at his feet. 'Everything you wanted. You know, it's a good thing you've still got friends in high places. Some of this stuff…'

'Yes, I know,' Riley responded. 'But I need the best.'

'Fate of the world stuff, huh?' Marc said. 'Look, if it's really as big as your making out you should be bringing is in on it.'

'No deal,' Riley insisted. 'I explained this. I don't want the service involved. If things get too much for me to handle, then I promise to bring you in, but otherwise…'

'We could just refuse to help you at all,' Marc said. 'Co-operation's a two way street.'

'The service isn't stupid,' Riley remarked. 'Sure, you could refuse to give me the help I need, but if I go and get myself killed then you're even worse off than you were before.'

Riley stood up to leave.

'You know, you were a good agent, Riley,' Marc said. 'One of the best. And we're not all like the Initiative, you know. If you ever find yourself looking for work…'

'I'll bear that in mind,' Riley said as he scooped up the case. 'But I'm happy where I am.'

Marc shook his head.

'You can take the boy out of the army, but you can't take the army out of the boy.'

'Well here's hoping I can prove you wrong,' Riley retorted. 'And Marc?'

'Yes?'

'Thanks.'

* * *

'What's in the case?' Xander asked.

'A few bits and pieces,' Riley admitted. 'The sort of things I wouldn't have been able to get through customs.'

'Aha, so your little errand was in fact a visit to Q-Branch,' Xander deduced.

Riley frowned.

'Come on,' he said, 'let's go spring Spike from his box and then find somewhere to crash for the night.'

'How come he always gets the best toys?' Xander complained to no one in particular as he trailed in Riley's wake.

* * *

There was a bus that ran from the airport to the hotel. It was a short ride made longer by Spike's incessant whining about the conditions of his flight. Riley tuned him out, half-suspecting that the vampire had slept through the entire trip and was only complaining on principle.

Willow had already booked their room and the guy behind the desk directed them to the far end of the building. Xander had to try the keycard three times before the lock clicked open. Spike was tapping his foot and sighed dramatically.

Xander held the door open.

'After you, oh impatient one,' he said to Spike.

Spike didn't move.

'Don't be a prat,' he snapped. 'I have to be invited in, remember.'

'Really?' Riley said, stepping past him and into the room. 'Does that mean we can leave you out here all night?'

'Har bleedin' har,' Spike replied. 'Just invite me in already.'

Riley had stopped just inside the doorway. There were two people already inside the room, a girl sitting on the bed and an older woman standing by the window.

The woman turned to look at him.

'We've been expecting you,' she said.


	14. What Makes You Different

Chapter Thirteen - What Makes You Different

'Who are you?' Riley asked. He had positioned himself so that he was blocking the corridor. If there was trouble then at least Xander and Spike should be able to get away.

'Didn't Rupert tell you about me?' asked the woman at the window.

'Elisabeth Bennett, I presume,' Riley deduced.

'Call me Liz,' she suggested.

'Giles never said anything about your companion,' Riley pointed out.

'Meet Suzi Mendez,' Liz explained, 'my slayer-in-waiting.'

Suzi sat up a little straighter. She was dressed in a black tanktop and skirt with knee-high boots. A silver crucifix hung from a chain around her neck. She had large, mournful eyes and her hair was an unruly mop that looked as if someone had attacked it with a pair of sheers. One half had been dyed cherry red, the other a bright green. 

'Nice to meet you,' Riley said to her.

'I'll bet,' she replied.

'So she's like the girl who gets to take over when Buffy, um, dies?' Xander asked.

'When Faith dies,' Liz informed him. 'Your friend is no longer the active slayer, current events notwithstanding. And the answer to your question is maybe. The Council is able to pinpoint dozens of potential slayers worldwide, but which of these will become active is impossible to say. In the meantime, all we can to is ensure that they are fully trained in case such an event arises.

'You know,' Spike said from the doorway, 'you don't look much like any Watcher I've ever met.'

'What, you think we all wear tweed and polish our glasses every five minutes?' Liz joked. 'Do come in, by the way.'

'About time somebody said it,' Spike muttered as he stepped inside the room.

Liz was not dressed in tweed. She was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and a cream roll-neck sweater. Long, straight auburn hair cascaded like a waterfall down her back.

'You do realise I'll need a way to confirm your story,' Riley told her.

Liz nodded.

'Rupert said you'd say something like that,' she said. 'He told me to tell you that he still wants to know why you do what you do.'

Riley grinned and offered a hand, which Liz took firmly.

'Welcome to the team,' he said.

Xander slumped into the only chair in the room.

'Hey, if you're a Watcher,' he began, 'does that mean the Council knows what we're up to.'

'Not from me,' Liz assured him. 'Rupert was very particular on that point. Officially, Suzi and I are still on the south coast tracking down a Vampire Count by the name of Ravencroft.'

'And unofficially?'

'I staked him on Saturday,' Suzi remarked in a bored voice.

'We've neglected to report back yet,' Liz explained. 'We both felt we could use some time off. Then Rupert phoned.'

'Sorry to spoil your vacation,' Spike commented sarcastically.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and Suzi shuffled away from him.

'Don't fret, little bit,' he told her, 'I won't bite.'

'Can't bite,' Suzi amended. 'You're the toothless vampire. A bit of a joke really.'

'Hey!' Spike protested.

He leaned forward and suddenly found the points of two knives beneath his chin.

'Doesn't mean I won't still kill you,' Suzi said.

'Not with those you won't,' Spike pointed out.

Suzi spun the knives in her hands. The hilts we wooden and had been sharpened into wicked-looking stakes.

'This better?' she asked.

'Ah.' Spike slowly moved away.

'Is she always this charming?' he asked Liz.

'I think she likes you,' Liz told him.

'Could have fooled me.'

'You're still alive, aren't you?' Liz pointed out. 'Suzi's whole family was killed by vampires while she was at school. She then had to stake them all when they rose three days later. She doesn't have a lot of love for your kind.'

'Liz, has Giles explained the situation to you?' Riley asked.

'I know that you plan on breaching the gate at Glastonbury to retrieve the Grail,' Liz replied.

'That's about the size of it,' Riley said.

'Good luck,' Liz said.

Riley offered her a wry smile.

'I hear that the Council hasn't had much luck getting in there,' he said.

'That's one way of putting it. What makes you think you'll do any better?'

'I'm guessing that the Council are missing something,' Riley explained.

'What, like a key?' Xander asked.

'I was thinking more along the lines of intel, but, yeah, why not a key,' Riley agreed. 'There's something they should have been doing that they weren't. If we can figure it out that I don't think we'll have any more problems.'

'Ever the optimist,' Spike said. 'And how, pray, are the five of us supposed to figure out something a whole gang of Watchers couldn't come up with in centuries?'

'I don't know, okay, Spike!' Riley snapped. 'All I know is that Dawn's missing and this may be our only way to get her back in one piece. I thought, in your own sick and twisted way, you might actually care about her. Guess I was wrong.'

'You want me to stake him now?' Suzi asked.

Riley considered the offer.

'No,' he said at last. 'But thanks.'

'I do care about the munchkin,' Spike insisted quietly. 'I just don't see what good we're going to be to her if we all end up dying on some foolish quest.'

'Dying's something we're hoping to avoid too,' Xander pointed out.

Liz lifted the curtains slightly and peered out of the window.

'Looking for someone?' Riley asked.

Liz let the curtain fall.

'Sorry,' she said, 'force of habit.'

'Don't apologise,' Riley responded. 'It always pays to watch your back.'

'Oh great,' Spike drawled, 'military-man's going off on one again.'

'You sure you don't want me to stake him?' Suzi asked hopefully.

'Don't tempt me,' Riley returned.

'There is someone who might be able to help,' Liz announced. 'A Professor Crozier who works at the British Museum. Outside of the Council, he's the world's leading authority on Arthurian legend. He might know something.'

'Well, what are we waiting for then,' Spike said, bounding to his feet. 'Let's go see him.'

'In the morning,' Riley insisted. 'Normal people do this thing we like to call sleeping.'

'Guess you'll be staying behind, Spikey,' Xander remarked, 'unless you fancy working on that tan of yours.'

'At least this place has got a bar,' Spike muttered darkly.

'I'll stay with the vampire,' Suzi offered.

'Good idea,' Riley agreed.

'Oh no, bad idea,' Spike replied. 'You're not seriously planning on leaving me alone with psycho here, are you?'

'I've already told Suzi that she can't stake you,' Liz explained.

'That's real reassuring,' Spike said. 'And what about beheading or burning?'

Liz sighed and turned to her charge.

'Suzi, do you promise not to kill Spike,' she said, 'at least until we get back?'

'If I must,' Suzi agreed.

'There now, all settled,' Liz told Spike.

'Way I see it, Suzi's here more for your protection than anything else,' Xander commented.

'And how exactly does that work?' Spike demanded.

'You can't hurt humans,' Riley explained. 'Seems to me if things turn nasty, Suzi could be the only thing keeping you alive. Or undead. Or whatever.'

Spike cast his eyes heavenwards.

'Stake me now,' he pleaded.

'Really?' Suzi asked.


	15. What Can You Tell Me

Chapter Fourteen - What Can You Tell Me

'Now, is one of you going to tell me what I want to know,' Buffy demanded, 'or are things going to start getting messy?'

'Start?' Willy moaned, eyeing the scene of devastation that had, not that long ago, been his establishment.

Buffy held a pool cue in her hands. She was holding it across one of Briares demon's throats, pinning him to the pool table.

'I don't know nothing,' the demon's second head insisted.

'Well maybe one of your friends knows,' Buffy told him. 'And maybe they'll be more willing to talk once I show them, using you as an example, what I'm going to do to them if they don't.'

'Who do you think you are anyway,' asked a demon who looked a bit like a human porcupine, 'smashing up the place like that? Maybe we ought to teach you some manners.'

'Um, guys…' Willy said as Porcupine and his companion - a short squid-faced creature with tattoos down both arms - sauntered over.

'I'm sorry, were you talking to me?' Buffy asked, standing upright. She placed one hand on her hip, while twirling the pool cue in her other hand.

'Were we talking to her?' Porcupine asked his companion, smirking. 'I'm going to enjoy beating some sense into that pretty blonde head of yours.'

'Guys, this really isn't a good idea,' Willy advised.

Squid-face grabbed Willy by the front of his shirt and lifted him off the ground.

'Did we ask for your advice?' he hissed.

'Uh, no,' Willy admitted. 'I'll be quiet now, shall I? Just don't say I didn't warn you.'

Squid-face let him drop and Willy ducked down behind the bar, shielding his head with his hands.

'Now why don't you hold still, girly,' Porcupine drawled, 'and I promise we'll make this quick.'

Buffy fluttered her eyelids at him.

'Oh that's ever so sweet of you, you big tough man you,' she purred, 'so why don't I return the favour.'

There was a blur of movement and Squid-face fell to the floor, gurgling. The pool cue was stuck through his neck.

'What, but, how did you…' Porcupine stammered.

'Didn't anybody tell you?' Buffy asked. 'I'm the Slayer.'

'The Slayer,' Porcupine repeated. 'This is gonna hurt, isn't it.'

Buffy grinned.

'Oh yeah.'

* * *

'Well?' Giles said as Buffy stormed into the Magic Box.

'Well?' Buffy repeated. 'Is that it? Don't I at least deserve a 'how was your day, Buffy'?'

'I'm so terribly sorry,' Giles responded dryly. 'How was your day, Buffy?'

'Don't ask,' Buffy replied, slumping into a chair at the table. Tara and Willow were already seated, leafing through books Giles had selected earlier. Anya was serving customers and Giles was pacing the length of the shop.

'How was _your_ day?' Buffy asked when he passed by their table again.

'Oh, so-so,' Giles replied. 'I've pulled out all of the books on Celtic lore in my collections, both the one here and the one at home, and Willow, Tara and I have been looking through them all day. I must say, my appreciation of Celtic mythology has increased dramatically, but…'

'But?'

'But I'm not sure that I've actually uncovered anything remotely useful.' Giles placed both palms on the table and leaned forward, sighing as he did so. 'Please tell me you've managed to come up with at least some semblance of a lead on this business.'

'Well, seems there's a clan of demons been living out at Devil's Point,' Buffy explained. 'Kinda like Tony the Tiger, but with snakes growing out of their eyes and _ick_, it gives me the wiggins just thinking about them.'

'Melicertian demons,' Giles said. 'Probably. Do carry on.'

'Well, anyway, as I was saying, these things had been living out at Devil's Point and doing whatever demony things they usually get up to,' Buffy continued, 'but it seems they've been forced to move inland since some other guys decided to take up residence in their nice, homely cave-system. And guess what? Seems they were evicted recently. As in since our fairy friends moved to town.'

'Is that it?' Giles said when it became clear that Buffy was going to add nothing further.

'Hey, you told me to look into anything odd that had happened since this Irishy thingies turned up,' Buffy retorted, 'and that's what I did. You could at least try to act pleased.'

'Oh, I am,' Giles blustered, 'I was just hoping for something a bit more substantial that's all.'

'Well, it's a whole lot more substantial that what you've come up with,' Buffy pointed out.

'Research takes time,' Giles replied defensively. 'It's an art and any art requires due patience and diligence and anyway, why aren't you out there looking into this lead of yours instead of being here harassing me?'

'Have you any idea how far it is to Devil's Pont?' Buffy pointed out. 'And I can hardly ask Mom if I can borrow her car.'

'Quite,' Giles agreed. 'Well, I think I'm best employed continuing my researches here so I can hardly accompany you and Anya's occupied with customers at the moment…'

'We'll go,' Willow piped up, 'won't we, Tara?'

'That's settled then,' Giles said, handing Tara the keys to his car.

'Hey, how come she gets to drive?' Buffy complained.

Giles glared at her over the top of his glasses.

'Because I would like my car back in one piece,' he explained.

Buffy pouted.

* * *

'Well I guess this is the place,' Buffy said, standing at the mouth of the cave. 'I don't suppose either of you thought to bring a light.'

'I've got a torch,' Tara offered.

'Oh don't bother with that,' Willow told her. '_Illuminatus_.'

A small ball of yellow light appeared in the palm of her hand and darted forward into the cave, illuminating the entrance.

'Now isn't that much better?' Willow asked rhetorically.

Tara frowned, but said nothing.

'Looks like a snitch,' Buffy commented as they started forward, the ball of light weaving about a few feet ahead of them.

'A snitch?' Tara inquired.

'Sorry. Blame Dawn,' Buffy explained. 'She's got these books and…never mind.'

'I'm sure Dawn's okay,' Willow told her friend.

'Of course she's okay,' Buffy replied. _Because I don't even want to start thinking about what I'll do if she isn't_.

They crept forward. They could hear the sound of water dripping all around them.

'You don't suppose this place gets cut off at high tide, do you?' Tara asked.

'I hadn't thought of that,' Buffy mused. 'How about we just take a quick look round and get out of here before that becomes an issue.'

'Um, Buffy, I don't mean to sound pessimistic and all,' Willow began, but I think that could be the least of our problems.'

Buffy turned. There was a chittering sound echoing down the tunnel back in the direction that had come. And the sound was getting louder.

'It's probably just rats, Will,' Buffy said.

'Rats, eww.' Willow shivered. 'But, I guess, at least not life-threatening, right?'

'Not usually,' Tara said. 'Look!'

The 'snitch' had darted down the tunnel to investigate the noise and Buffy could see the dark shapes crawling along the floor towards them. Crawling along the walls and ceiling, too.

'Those are really big rats,' she pointed out unnecessarily.

'I hate to sound all wimpy and girly and stuff,' Willow said, 'but could we run now? Please?'

'Running sounds good,' Buffy agreed, turning, ready to fit action to her words.

There was a man blocking the corridor, so tall that the hood of his robe scraped the tunnel ceiling. Buffy had not even heard him approach. The robe he was wearing trailed along the ground, completely masking the form beneath, and the hood was pulled low to hide his face.

'Going somewhere?' he asked. His voice was sweet, but there was an edge to it, like honey dripping from a knife. 'But we've only just met?'

'We can get acquainted some other time,' Buffy told him. 'Right now, why don't you just get out of our way.'

'But I insist,' the robed figure said. He raised a hand and two other creatures stepped forward to flank him. Buffy recognised them as the same type of things she and Riley had thought in the High Street. Not the Tuatha, the other, uglier ones.

'Don't reckon much to your choice of company,' Buffy told him. There was a long knife tucked into her boot, but she could not think of a way to reach it surreptitiously.

'Needs must,' the hooded man replied.

'Yeah, well, if they're meant to be impressive, it's not working,' Buffy told him. 'We've got more than enough firepower to take you on, right Willow? Willow?'

The tunnel suddenly went black as Willow's 'snitch' was extinguished.

'What the hell?' Buffy said.

A large, smelly hand grabbed her so Buffy broke two of its fingers. The hand withdrew.

'I really would play nice,' the hooded man told her. 'You are substantially outnumbered, after all.'

As the man spoke, Buffy realised that she was able to see him. He seemed to be glowing. As her eyes became accustomed to the low level of light, she was able to make out more features of the cave and she turned to see what had become of Willow and Tara.

They were gone.


	16. Read Between the Lines

Chapter Fifteen - Read Between the Lines

Professor Bernard Crozier's office was cramped. So cramped in fact that Xander had to stand out in the corridor and stick his head around the door. It was not that the office was small so much as full. Boxes sat upon boxes. Ring binders, bursting at the seams, spewed their contents on to the floor. Stacks of dog-eared books formed giddy towers spiralling skywards.

Professor Crozier was perched on the corner of his desk. A bronze bust of Wellington occupied his chair. Liz had found a wooden stool to sit on, having first shifted an overhead projector down to the ground. Riley had elected to stand. He was so rigid Xander wondered if he was even breathing. Every time Riley so much as twitched papers crunched beneath his feet, so Riley did not twitch. Xander was immensely relieved that he was outside. Besides, from here Xander had a good view of the woman in the office opposite, the one with the short skirt and the very long legs.

He was jerked back to reality by the professor's hacking cough. Each time he coughed, his spectacles jumped off his nose and then came to rest slightly further down it. By the time he had regained his composure, the spectacles were perched precariously right on the very tip.

The professor did not seem to notice.

'So, you're writing a book about Arthur, you say?' Crozier wheezed.

'Not so much about Arthur himself, more about the Grail,' Liz corrected. 

The three of them had concocted their story while riding the subway - sorry, tube - from Heathrow to Holborn. Well, Riley and Liz had worked it out. Xander had just grunted in what he hoped were appropriate places. In fairness, the carriage had been too crowded to do much else. They must have caught the morning rush hour. Not that it had been all bad. There was this one girl he had been pressed up against…and even an _ex_-vengeance demon could do terrible things to him if he continued this train of thought.

'The basic premise is that our protagonists are forced to go looking for the Grail,' Liz continued. They had also agreed that Liz should do most of the talking, in case the professor was more susceptible to a pretty face.

'Ah yes, the Grail,' Crozier mused. 'The object Arthur thought would restore the land. If that doesn't convince you that the whole thing's a load of codswallop, nothing will.'

'Maybe, but it's popular, um, codswallop,' Liz countered, 'and there's always a market for new stories.'

'Hmm, I suppose,' Crozier admitted. 'So how can I help you young people?'

'Well, for the purposes of the plot,' Liz explained, 'we're assuming that the Grail can be found at Arthur's grave in Glastonbury.'

'Glastonbury? Pah!'

Crozier stopped short of spitting on the floor.

'I'm guessing that you're not convinced by the idea that Arthur's at Glastonbury, then,' Riley remarked.

Crozier laughed.

'Not by a long chalk,' he said. 'The whole thing's a publicity stunt.'

'A publicity stunt?'

'Let me tell you a story,' Crozier offered. 'Back in, oh, the late twelfth century - 1184, I think - Glastonbury Abbey was gutted in a fire and the poor monks were in somewhat dire straits. However, at the same time, by a remarkable coincidence, the monks discover Arthur's tomb just fifty feet from the Lady Chapel.'

'Wasn't one of the previous abbots told where the tomb was by Henry II?' Liz asked.

'Who was himself told by a Welsh bard who just happened to be passing through,' Crozier scoffed. 'You don't really believe this rubbish, do you?'

'I try to keep an open mind,' Liz admitted.

'Well try getting your mind around this,' Crozier suggested. 'Arthur wasn't the only medieval celebrity to be 'mysteriously discovered' in the abbey grounds following the fire. It seems our dear monks were hedging their bets, so to speak.'

Xander noticed that the woman in the office opposite was looking his way and he felt the colour rushing to his cheeks. He raised a hand in a half-hearted wave. The woman stood up and he was once more impressed by the length of her legs. She smiled at him and Xander opened his mouth to speak. Then she closed the office door between them.

With a sigh, Xander turned back to the discussion. Not that he was following much of it.

'Wasn't there an archaeologist who excavated the site in the sixties?' Liz was saying.

'Dr Radford, yes,' Crozier agreed. 'Now I admit that he claimed to have found evidence of a graveyard containing the tombs of distinguished personages.'

'And didn't he also claim that the grave had previously been excavated,' Liz persisted, 'possibly by the monks in 1184.'

'Even assuming that the grave had been excavated before, it doesn't mean that it was by the monks,' Crozier shot back, 'and it certainly does not mean that the tomb belonged to Arthur. He's a fictional character, for heaven's sake.'

'What about the cross?' Liz asked. 'I seem to recall reading somewhere that there was a cross in the tomb that confirmed that the body belonged to Arthur.'

'So the story goes,' Crozier said. 'You have a good memory. There was a cross buried with him and there was a Latin inscription on the cross, which read 'Here lies King Arthur in the Isle of Avalon with his second wife Guinevere'.'

'Second wife?' Riley asked.

'Yes, second wife,' Crozier confirmed. 'At the time, you see, there were two competing legends of Arthur with two different women involved. It's just another example of the monks hedging their bets and trying to please everybody. Not to mention the fact that when it became generally accepted that Guinevere was Arthur's one true love, the inscription mysteriously changed.'

'But doesn't the cross prove that the tomb is genuine?' Liz continued.

'The cross doesn't prove anything,' Crozier replied. 'According to some, the Latin is clearly not a sixth century text, while others say that if it's a forgery then it's a bloody good one - pardon my French. And since the cross disappeared in the eighteenth century - assuming it ever existed - we've no way to confirm one side or the other.'

'But…' Liz began.

'I think we're drifting a bit off the point,' Riley said hastily. 'People want to believe Arthur's buried at Glastonbury. For a work of fiction, that's good enough for us.'

'Well if you're not even going to bother to get your facts right then I don't know what you think you're doing here,' Crozier muttered.

'Professor,' Riley began, 'I'm sorry if we've offended you. We didn't mean to. You have to understand that what we're working on is a mass-market work of fiction and, as such, we have to aim it at the lowest common denominator and can't make it as cerebral as we might like. However, we don't like compromising our principles any more than you do, which is why we were hoping we could get some input from the world's foremost Arthurian scholar.'

'World's foremost Arthurian scholar, eh?' Crozier positively glowed.

'That's how you were described to us,' Liz added, 'and so far we've not been disappointed.

'I should hope not,' Crozier replied, puffing himself up like a peacock. 'Now, what is it exactly that you want my input on?'

'Well, we've written into the plot that several people have tried to get the Grail from Glastonbury, but they've all failed,' Liz explained. 'What we're trying to come up with is a method our protagonists can use to get around whatever force it is that's protecting the Grail.'

'Sounds to me like you're happily painting yourself into a corner,' Crozier remarked.

Another coughing fit shook the professor and this time his glasses did come flying off. Liz managed to catch them before the struck the floor.

'You might be right,' she confessed, 'but is there any way you can see to get us out of it?'

'Thank you, my dear,' Crozier said, taking back his spectacles. 'Now let me think. In the legend, Arthur sends out his greatest knights on a quest to retrieve the Grail, but Galahad is the only one that can find it. And what sets Galahad apart is that he was the purest and noblest of all the knights. So, if you really must go down that route, I would suggest that your hero can retrieve the Grail because he is pure of heart unlike those who have gone before him. Of course, that's just my idea. If I had any real talent for fiction I wouldn't still be here, would I?'

'And how would we - sorry, our characters - find out which of them was pure enough to get the Grail?' Liz asked.

'Do I have to do everything for you?' Crozier demanded. 'Oh, very well. Have you ever heard of the Stone of Falias?'

'The name sounds familiar,' Riley admitted.

'It's one of the four treasures of Celtic mythology, isn't it?' Liz said. 'Isn't that the stone used to determine the rightful king?'

'So you have done your research,' Crozier remarked. 'I'm impressed. Yes, so the story goes, the stone would sing when held by the man who would be king. It's believed by many to be the inspiration for the stone from which Arthur pulled Excalibur, thereby showing himself worthy to be king.'

'I'm not sure we're actually looking for a king,' Riley pointed out.

'Oh, use a little imagination, young man,' Crozier scolded him. 'That's what you writers are supposed to be good at, isn't it? The stone takes the measure of a man. You want a way to find your hero then there it is.'

'And where would we find this stone?'

Crozier shrugged.

'Why not try the other place associated with Arthur,' he suggested, 'his alleged birthplace and the site of his castle - Tintagel.'

* * *

The three of them stepped out into the sunlight illuminating the courtyard in front of the museum. A school party was disembarking from a bus by the gates. Xander shivered. Despite the sun, Xander had discovered that November in England was really cold and he wished that he had thought to bring a heavier coat.

'So we're going to Cornwall,' Liz said as the descended the steps, disturbing the pigeons as they went.

'We'll need transport,' Riley pointed out.

'We can hire a car at the airport,' Liz suggested.

'What about Spike?' Xander asked. 'Is he going back in his box?'

'If we set off as soon as it gets dark we should be there by morning,' Liz explained.

'Sounds like a plan,' Xander replied, weaving to avoid being mown down by kids. He was about to cross the road when Riley put a hand on his arm and pulled him in the other direction.

'Hey, what's up?' Xander asked. 'The station's that way.'

'But the crowds are this way,' Riley explained.

'And we want to get crushed to death because?'

'We're being followed,' Riley told him.


	17. Someone To Watch Over Me

Chapter Sixteen - Someone To Watch Over Me

Riley steered them into a Starbucks on the south side of Oxford Street. He paid for the coffees and then sat down at a table. He sat facing the window while Xander and Liz sat down opposite him, facing inside.

'Can you see them?' Riley asked, taking a sip from his mug. 'Big bearded guy in an overcoat and his friend, curly blond hair, leather jacket and jeans.'

'I see them,' Liz said.

'Where?' Xander asked, craning his neck.

'Xander, try not to stare,' Riley instructed. 'We don't want to attract attention.'

'They've sat down by the door,' Liz added.

'Good,' Riley said. 'They were with us on the train, but I didn't think much of it.'

'You memorised the people on the train with us?' Xander asked incredulously.

'Yes,' Riley replied simply. 'Then I recognised them when we came out of the museum. And now they're here.'

'So what do we do about it?' Liz inquired.

'I want you two to get back to the hotel,' Riley told them. 'Meet up with Spike and Suzi and sort out a car. I'll take care of these guys.'

'And how do you plan on doing that?' Liz asked.

'Are you kidding?' Xander put in. 'This is secret agent man.'

'Thanks, Xander, I think,' Riley replied.

'Well, when do we get going?' Xander asked.

'No rush,' Riley responded, taking another sip. 'Might as well enjoy your coffee.'

They drank in silence. Liz and Xander kept glancing towards their stalkers, but Riley refused to so much as turn his head.

'Finished?' Riley asked when he'd drained his mug. 'Good. I'll go first. When I give the signal, I want you to make a break for it.'

'And the signal is?'

'You'll know it when you see it,' Riley replied enigmatically. 

He got up, swaying a bit, and swaggered over to the door. When he reached the exit he slipped, crashing into the nearest table and knocking it and the drinks on it into the laps of the two people seated beside it - the two stalkers.

'Sorry,' Riley said. 'Here let me help you up.'

As he offered his hand to the blond man in the jacket, he caught a glimpse of Liz and Xander rushing out of the door. He smiled.

'Get away from me,' Jacket protested.

'Only trying to help,' Riley said. He grabbed hold of the man's jacket and made a show of pulling him to his feet, while all the while pinning him where he was.

'I think you've done more than enough,' Beard and Overcoat insisted. He had a hand inside his coat.

Riley stepped back. He had suspected that these two were armed, but it was nice to have it confirmed.

'At least let me buy you fresh drinks,' he said.

'Just get the hell out of here,' Jacket insisted.

'Whatever you say,' Riley replied, stepping out of the door and allowing himself to be carried along by the crowd.

* * *

'Don't drink it all at once, munchkin,' Spike said, putting a glass of lemonade down in front of Suzi.

'Don't call me that,' Suzi snapped. 'And the least you could have done was buy me a beer.'

'And encourage underage drinking?' Spike asked. 'Not bloody likely.'

'Of course not,' Suzi mocked, 'you being such a nice law-abiding vampire and all.'

'Law's got nothing to do with it, munchkin,' Spike replied.

'I said…'

'I know. And it's got more to do with me not wanting to attract unwanted attention.'

'In that case,' Suzi continued, 'we'd have been better off in your room.'

'Is that an offer?' Spike asked with a hungry grin.

Suzi blushed. 'How dare you.'

'Don't worry, munchkin,' Spike assured her, 'you're not my type. Still, I notice you didn't say no.'

Suzi bristled.

'Just remember,' Spike told her, 'you promised not to stake me.'

'I promised not to stake you until they got back,' Suzi reminded him. 'After that you can take your chances.'

Spike laughed.

'I like you, munchkin,' he said. 'There's a fire blazing away in there, isn't there. Maybe you are my type, after all.'

'I doubt that,' Suzi muttered, picking up her lemonade. Her free hand was playing with her hair and had been since she had sat down. Spike knew that it had nothing to do with her being self-conscious. Suzi had one of her knives sheathed back there, hidden from sight by the upturned collar of her jacket.

'Anyway, I like it out here,' Spike continued, 'so long as we stay away from the windows.'

'Life must be tough for you, huh?' Suzi remarked.

'Not really,' Spike replied. 'All the interesting stuff happens at night anyway.'

'Bet you miss the killing, though, don't you,' Suzi said, 'what with that chip in your head.'

'Are you deliberately trying to irritate me,' Spike said, 'because you're going the right way about it. Sure I wish I didn't have this damn chip up here, but I've adapted. There's still plenty of stuff I can kill so I'm not exactly missing out on the rough-housing, if you know what I mean. The blood, though, that's a different thing. Pig's blood's foul and that stuff you get from the hospital isn't much better. No, I like it fresh and warm, but I'm beginning to forget what that even tastes like now.'

'You're disgusting,' Suzi told him.

'At least I'm honest about it,' Spike replied. 'What about you, what's your vice?'

'Like I'm going to tell you.'

'Come on, fair's fair,' Spike said. 'I've answered all of your questions, now you answer one of mine. 'Less you're afraid that is.'

'Afraid?'

'Yeah, that's it, isn't it,' Spike wheedled. 'The big bad Slayer's afraid of the toothless vampire.'

'Yeah, right,' Suzi responded, looking away.

'In that case,' Spike said, 'tell us your little secret.'

'It's silly,' Suzi admitted.

'So?'

'You'll laugh.'

'Promise I won't.'

'I want to get a tongue stud,' Suzi confessed.

Spike laughed.

'Hey, you promised,' Suzi protested.

'Evil, remember?' Spike pointed out. 'A tongue stud? Is that all?'

'Told you it was silly,' Suzi pointed out.

'I never said that,' Spike replied. 'I just don't see why you haven't already gone out and got one is all.'

'Mum would never let me have one,' Suzi explained.

Spike sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest.

'Not to seem callous and all,' he began, 'but she's dead.'

'Exactly,' Suzi replied.

'You've lost me.'

'If she was alive, at least I could do it as an act of defiance,' Suzi told him. 'Now, well it'd just be disrespectful.'

'I guess,' Spike said. 'Never had much time for respect, myself, even when I was alive.'

'What were you like,' Suzi asked, 'when you were alive?'

'Can we talk about something else,' Spike said.

'You were the one who wanted honesty,' Suzi pointed out.

'Just leave it, okay,' Spike snapped.

'Sorry,' Suzi muttered, slouching in her chair.

There was a commotion over by the reception desk. A bird had flown in from outside and a couple of members of staff were trying to chase it back out again.

'Uh oh,' Spike said, sitting up, 'this doesn't look good.'

'Why?' Suzi asked. 'It's just a blackbird or something.'

'It's a crow,' Spike informed her.

'And I care because?'

'Don't you know your mythology?' Spike demanded. 'Course not. You're a bloody Slayer. What would you need to know any mythology for? The crow represents Morrigan, Celtic goddess of war and strife.'

'And that's a bad thing, right?' Suzi asked.

'Well yeah,' Spike replied.

'Not any more.'

A knife streaked from Suzi's hand and caught the crow in its neck, pinning it to the floor.

'Better?' Suzi asked as she stooped to retrieve her knife.

'What were we saying about not attracting unwanted attention?' Spike asked. 

He picked Suzi up and started carrying her from the room. 

'Show's over people,' he called out, 'but you'll be pleased to know we'll be performing here all week.'

When they got back to the hotel room, Spike threw her onto the bed.

'Watch it,' Suzi protested.

'What were you thinking?' Spike asked.

'You said that thing was dangerous,' Suzi replied, 'so I got rid of it.'

'And not that I don't admire your enthusiasm, munchkin,' Spike began, 'but did it ever occur to you that you might have made matters worse?'

'Hey, I saw a threat so I acted,' Suzi protested. 'I thought you liked girls with a bit of fire. Or does that only apply to vampires?'

'Oh, I like some vampires,' Spike replied crossing to the window, 'but that doesn't mean I don't like warm-bloods too. Fangs ruin a good pout.'

Suzi scowled. Then thought better of it.

Standing as far away as he could, Spike reached over and twitched the curtains open a fraction before looking out.

'Munchkin, come over here,' he ordered.

'Like hell,' she replied.

'Suzi, this is important,' Spike said. 'I think we've got a problem.'

Suzi walked past him and stared out of the window.

Crows were gathering on the lawn. Dozens of them.

Suzi snapped the curtain closed.

'So what do we do now?' she asked.


	18. Where Do I Hide

Chapter Seventeen - Where Do I Hide

Riley was window-shopping. He was slowly making his way west along Oxford Street, pausing every so often to look into shop windows. He could not pause too long, however, as the pressure of the crowd forced him ever onward. These brief stops, however, were important to him. They were the moments when he glanced back to check that his two pursuers were still following him.

From time to time he crossed the road, keeping an eye out for the bright red double-decker buses and the black box-like taxicabs. He was taking his time. So long as they were following him, Liz and Xander were free to get on with the mission. Besides, he was enjoying himself.

'There, I admit it,' he muttered under his breath as he ducked into a bookshop. 'I'm having fun.'

It was a guilty pleasure. He was here on a mission, a mission these two guys might be threatening. He was supposed to be taking things seriously. And he was. Riley had been trained to well, first by the Army and then by the Initiative, to do anything else. But that did not mean that he could not take pleasure in what he did.

It had been some time since he had been able to put his pursue and evade training into practice. Most of the HSTs he had come across could not pass well enough as human to make a chase like this meaningful. And he was good at this. The only reason he had not already lost his pursuers was because he was not really trying to. Yet.

He picked a paperback off of the shelf and skimmed through it. As he did so, he glanced up. Jacket was standing by the escalator, pretending to consult the store plan. Riley returned the book to its home. Then he strode out of the shop. Overcoat was standing by the door, but Riley did not even glance his way as he walked past. He glanced at his watch. So far they had been playing this game for half an hour, not enough time for Xander and Liz to get back to Heathrow, let alone rent a car. 

There was a department store across the street. Riley wandered nonchalantly over to the traffic lights opposite. Traffic stopped and people began to hurry from one side to the other. Riley stayed put. Overcoat and Jacket had also stopped, staring into a shop window so as not to look suspicious. Riley grinned. They might have looked less suspicious had the shop not been selling women's underwear.

The green man on the traffic lights began to flash and Riley threw himself across the road. By the time Jacket and Overcoat had reacted, traffic was already in motion again and two buses rumbled along, shielding Riley from their view. Riley paused before entering the store. He was still buying the others time so he did not want to lose his pursuers, just toy with them a little. When he caught sight of them again, he winked at them, then pushed open the glass door and stepped inside.

The department store had a café/restaurant in the basement. Riley bought himself a coffee and a cinnamon whirl before selecting a corner table, sitting so that he could keep an eye on the rest of the room.

It occurred to him that whoever his pursuers were, they might have an agent stationed at the airport to watch them. There was nothing he could do about it, however, except trust to Xander and Liz's own abilities. Somehow, that didn't make him worry any less.

* * *

'Do you think Spike and the kid are okay?' Xander asked Liz as the train pulled out of the station. He was having to stand again. He wouldn't mind so much, but most of the floor space was taken up by suitcases leaving him few places to put his feet.

'Assuming Suzi hasn't killed him, I'm sure your friend's fine,' Liz replied.

'He's not my friend,' Xander told her, having to raise his voice to be heard above the noise of the train, 'and Suzi can do what she likes with him. I was just wondering if maybe they might have run into some more of those guys back there.'

Liz mulled this over.

'If they'd known you were coming,' she began, 'they could have had someone waiting for you at the airport. There could still be someone there now.'

'So what do we do now?'

'I don't know,' Liz admitted, 'but we'd better think fast. Only two more stops to go.'

* * *

Suzi jumped when she heard the phone ring.

'Don't worry, munchkin, it won't bite,' Spike mocked.

He didn't make a move to answer it.

The phone continued to ring, an unpleasant braying sound. They had been sitting in silence for the past hour, broken only by the fluttering of wings outside the window, and the phone seemed worryingly loud.

'Aren't you going to answer it?' Suzi inquired after the seventh ring.

'You answer it,' Spike snapped back.

The phone continued to taunt them.

'Oh bloody hell,' Spike muttered, snatching up the handset. 'What?'

'And it's a pleasure to hear you too,' Xander told him.

'What do _you _want?' Spike asked.

'We've got a problem,' Xander told him. 'Seems someone's been expecting us.'

* * *

Xander replaced the handset of the payphone and glanced around the airport concourse.

'Figured out that plan yet?' he asked Liz.

'Getting there,' she replied. 'What do you reckon, the guy drinking coffee over there?'

'The one reading the book?' Xander asked.

'He's not reading,' Liz corrected him. 'He hasn't turned a page in the last fifteen minutes. Even I'm not that slow.'

'Sounds like our man,' Xander agreed. 'So what are we going to do?'

'Just be ready to make a break for it,' Liz said. 'I'll meet you outside.'

'But what…'

* * *

The observer watched the couple over the top of his book, a cheap paperback he'd picked up here at the airport. The man, Xander Harris, had just hung up the phone. The observer wished that he had been close enough to hear the conversation, but that was not to be. 

The observer sipped his cappuccino. The woman was an unknown quantity, one he had not been briefed on and it was unlike his superiors to make mistakes. Sure, so they had only sent him on a couple of other assignments so far, but their intelligence had been spot-on in both cases. He was already making mental notes about her to put in his report. Perhaps if he could impress his bosses there might be more challenging work available for him in future.

With a start, he realised that she was walking towards him. No, he assured himself, she was walking towards the café, the one he just happened to be in. It was coincidence. She could not possibly have noticed him. Could she? There was something wrong with the way she moved, as if she were dizzy or maybe drunk. She was swaying and weaving erratically about the concourse, occasionally brushing up against other people, then mumbling apologies before moving on. When she was within a few feet of him, she put a hand to her head and moaned theatrically. Then her eyes rolled back in her head and her legs buckled. She collapsed onto the tiled floor in a heap.

Within moments, people - both airport staff and concerned passers-by - were rushing to her air. Quite a crowd was forming around her, creating a barrier between the observer and Harris. As Harris ducked out of sight, the watcher tried vainly to pursue, but instead found himself caught up in the growing throng. He forced his way through, much to the annoyance of the people around him, but by the time he finally emerged, Xander was gone.

He cursed himself. Just as he had been thinking this might be his big break he had screwed up. Big time. He took a deep breath and tried to calm his fraught nerves. All was not lost. He could still keep an eye on the woman, whoever she might be.

She was allowing the airport staff to help her up, to lead her over to one side and to sit her in a chair. The observer took up a position against the opposite wall and, pretending to still be reading his book, watched as the woman gratefully excepted a plastic cup. Probably water, the man mused, not that it mattered. The woman took her time convincing her attendants that she was fine and each additional second made the observer all the more uncomfortable. What was Harris getting up to while he just stood here? Maybe the woman wasn't important after all. Maybe she was just someone Harris had met on the tube. According to his superiors, Xander had a girlfriend back in the States, but that didn't mean he wouldn't flirt, did it?

All this time I've been watching a civilian, the observer thought, and I've let Harris slip through my fingers. He turned and began to stride off down the concourse in the direction he believed Harris has disappeared. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the woman get up.

He paused. He had just decided to give up on her, but now…

He followed. He knew that he was too close, but he didn't want to risk losing her like he had lost Harris, so he quickened his pace all the same. The woman was leaving the airport. The automatic doors were sliding closed behind her and the observer broke into a run to keep her in sight.

A silver estate car pulled up to the curve. The driver flung open the passenger-side door and the woman jumped in. As the door slammed closed, the observer caught a brief glimpse of Harris sitting behind the wheel.

The observer glanced around desperately. He saw a row of black taxicabs to his left and dived in to the first one.

'Follow that car,' he commanded.

The driver held up his hands in apology.

'What car?' he asked.

The observer banged his fist against the glass partition in frustration. His superiors were going to be less than happy with him.


	19. Echoes

Chapter Eighteen - Echoes

_And so, a bargain struck, the pair did vow,_

_First to part Merlin from his lady love_

_Before installing Morgan in her place._

_Alas, poor Nimue ignorant remained_

_Of the dark forces 'gainst her now arrayed._

_She rode out with the calling of the lark_

_Upon her favoured mare to greet the dawn_

_But she was not alone as was her want._

_Lord Bres sat on his throne, outwardly calm,_

_But in his heart anticipation brewed_

_Mixed with impatience, for the prize was his,_

_But not till Morgan was at Merlin's side._

_His radiance he turned on those he loved,_

_His people, those who loved him in return._

_And should they not? His eyes were filled with stars,_

_His skin glowed like the solar disc with warmth._

_His smiles were bliss, like that a newborn brings,_

_His tears could drive a man to madness and to death._

_And into Bres' court his spy brought news,_

_That Nimue was abroad and alone,_

_Save for the eyes that dogged her every step,_

_So that their master might be kept informed._

_Upon hearing this news, Lord Bres did laugh_

_And to their knees his people fell, entranced,_

_But Bres carried for them not, turning instead_

_With all speed towards Nimue and his prize._

_The lady Nimue 'pon the shore did ride,_

_The rising sun reflected on the waves_

_Like red blood spilled. And circling high above,_

_The gulls cried out for her in mournful song._

_'Greetings, fair maid,' Lord Bres out to her called._

_'Pray what brings you abroad at such an hour?'_

_The breath of Nimue caught within her throat_

_As on the wondrous form of Bres she gazed._

_She could no longer speak, nor choose to act_

_In any way 'cept that which he desired._

_Thus was Nimue by Lord Bres bewitched._

_Lord Bres reached up and too her by the hand_

_Assisting her to dismount from her horse_

_And the he led her unresisting to_

_A cave where deep within the dark he knew_

_Merlin his lady love could never find._

* * *

Giles ran a hand through his tousled hair.

'No, Buffy didn't come back here last night,' Giles told the person on the other end of the telephone receiver. 'Are you sure she didn't spend the night with Willow. I know they went out patrolling together yesterday.'

He winced at the near hysterical barrage that assaulted him from the phone. It was hardly surprising that Joyce was upset. It was bad enough that one daughter had gone missing, but bothOf course Joyce had tried to contact Willow. No one seemed to know where she was either.

'I see,' Giles said. His tone was level and calm, but his mind was racing. 'I'm sure there's nothing to worry about. I imagine that they're still caught up in their investigationsNo, no, I think it's best if you stay at home, in case she tries to call. _I'll _go and look for herYes, I will call you as soon as I find anything.'

Giles put the phone down with some relief, tempered by his now nagging concern for Buffy. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Why did it seem that for every step forward they made they ended up two steps further back? He couldn't help feeling that there was something terribly obvious about this whole business, but the solution continued to elude him. What was the matter with him?

Jenny stepped up behind him and snaked her arms around his chest. 

'You look tense, Rupert,' she said. 'I know a way to remedy that.'

Giles managed a watery smile and turned to face her.

'Buffy's missing,' he explained. 'Willow and Tara with her. I need to find them and I believe I'm going to need your help.'

Jenny looked uncomfortable.

'I realise how nervous you are about facing everybody again,' Giles continued, 'but I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important.'

'I know,' Jenny replied. 'Guess I'd better go and get dressed, huh?'

* * *

'I can't believe that you closed the Magic Box,' Anya said to Giles when he arrived to pick her up. He had been forced to phone Joyce again in order to ask if he could borrow her car.

'Anya,' Giles replied patiently, 'I think our friends are rather more important than one day's trade.'

'But what about all of our customers?' Anya protested.

'I'm sure they'll be able to find what they need elsewhere,' Jenny assured her.

'Yes,' Anya said. 'That's my point exactly.'

Anya had never met Jenny, but she readily accepted Giles' explanation that she was a friend from his time at Sunnydale High who was staying with him for a few days. She was rather proud that her assumptions regarding Giles' recent sex-life had proved to be accurate. It also made her bemoan her current lack of the same. And Xander hadn't even phoned.

'Look!' Jenny shouted, pointing.

Anya leaned forward to see what was going on.

'Oh look, Giles,' she said when she noticed it, 'it's your penis extension.'

Giles sputtered, strangely lost for words. Jenny bit her lower lip to prevent herself from laughing. Anya couldn't understand what was wrong with the pair of them, but suspected it might be one of those annoying times when Xander, if he were here instead of abandoning her in favour of a holiday in England, might start lecturing her about tact. Tact, in Anya's opinion, was overrated. Not to mention confusing. Why would someone not want to say what they really meant? Human beings were really bizarre.

They pulled up next to Giles' red BMW.

'No signs of a struggle,' Jenny said as the three of them emerged from Joyce's car.

'No,' Giles mused. 'I imagine they parked here before going down to investigate the caves below.'

'And they didn't come back,' Anya added. 'Do you think that there might have been a cave-in? They could be trapped in there, all alone in the dark, starving and with rats nibbling on their toes with those cute little teeth of theirs. Or maybe the tide came in and they drowned. We'll probably find their bodies washed up on the beach eventually, once the fish have finished with them and you just know that that isn't going to be pretty.'

'Anya,' Giles said with forced patience, 'I don't think it's a good idea to speculate at this point.'

While Anya pouted, Giles handed out torches and then led the way down to the beach.

'Do you really think that this is a good idea?' Anya asked.

Giles rounded on her faster than he had intended and Anya took a step back.

'I was only going to say,' she persisted, 'that if whatever's in there has got Buffy and Willow and Tara then what chance do we have against it? They're Slayers and witches. What are we?'

'She does have a point, Rupert,' Jenny agreed.

Giles took off his glasses and began very slowly polishing the left lens.

'I know,' he conceded, 'but what choice do we have? We can't just abandon our friends.'

'Unless they're already dead,' Anya pointed out. 'What? Someone has to say it. There's a good chance that whatever has got hold of them has already done away with them. It's what I would do. And if they are dead then what is the point of us risking our own lives down here?'

'But what about the possibility that they might be alive?' Giles asked. 'They might need our help.'

'I know,' Anya admitted, 'but I'm scared. I'm scared that I'm going to go and die a horrible messy death and I won't be there for Xander when he gets back from England. And I'm scared that even if I do manage to stay safe that maybe Xander won't and I'll be waiting and waiting and he'll never come back to me and why do I have to feel like this?'

Jenny put her hands on Anya's shoulders, holding her at arm's length.

'Everything's going to be okay,' she told her. 'You'll see. We'll go in there and we'll get Buffy back and then Xander will come back from England and we'll save the world again because that's what we do.'

'I know,' Anya replied, shifting uncomfortably. 'I know all that, but I still feel all icky and off-balance.'

Giles replaced his glasses on his nose.

'This isn't like you, Anya,' he remarked. 'We've faced far more frightening things that this and they've never bothered you before now. What is it that makes this so different?'

'Because I can stop this,' Anya explained frantically. 'I've seen all of this before, I think, and I should know what's going on, but I can't remember. I've tried so very hard, but I just can't remember!'

'What do you mean you've seen this before?' Jenny asked.

'I'm over a thousand years old,' Anya explained. 'I've seen a lot of things before. And this is familiar. I just wish I knew why.'

'And you're sure you can't remember anything that could help us?' Giles asked.

'I wouldn't say I couldn't if I could, would I,' Anya snapped.

'No, I suppose not,' Giles conceded.

'If you want my advice,' Jenny began, 'there's no point working yourself up over it. Let's get in there, rescue your friends and then we'll see about trying to help you through this, okay?'

Anya smiled.

'Okay,' she said.

'Excellent,' Giles added. Then he snapped on his torch and stepped inside the mouth of the cave.

Water dripped from the ceiling and each splash where the drops hit the floor echoed within the confined space. Anya hugged herself, rubbing her upper arms as she shivered. The drop in temperature now that they were out of the sunlight was marked. Jenny was following behind her and the light at the mouth of the tunnel, which Anya could see over Jenny's shoulder, now seemed very far away.

Giles swore and Anya jumped, startled.

'Rupert, what is it?' Jenny said, pressing forward.

'Nothing,' Giles confessed sheepishly. 'I stepped in a puddle and these shoes aren't as waterproof as I believed.'

He took a few more steps onwards, squelching as he did so.

'I thought you'd found something,' Jenny continued, 'or something had found you.'

'Wrong on both counts, I'm afraid,' Giles replied, the beam of his torch playing further up the tunnel, 'and I don't know whether or not that's a good thing. There's no sign Buffy even came this way.'

'Where else could she have gone?' Anya asked.

'Nowhere,' Giles confirmed, shaking his head. 'They have to be here somewhere. We just have to find them.'

Doggedly, the three continued on.

'This is odd,' Giles said, pausing to examine the walls. 'Look at these gouges.'

'And the beauty of these big scratches is?' Jenny asked.

'I'm not entirely sure,' Giles admitted, massaging the back of his neck with his free hand, 'but they're curious all the same. And they appear to be quite recent, too.'

Anya ran her finger over them, then snatched it away.

'Ow!' she cried as blood blossomed from a narrow cut on her fingertip. She turned to Giles. 'Do you think they might be man-made. Or'

'Or made by something other than a man?' Giles concluded. 'I rather think that's a distinct possibility. See here how the scratches continue across the floor. They're fainter, but now we know what we're looking forThey continue all the way back here.'

'So what are they?' Jenny asked. 'Tracks of some kind?'

'Yes, I think that's precisely what they are,' Giles said, crouching down to get a closer look. 'I wish I had my books with me. Anya, do these look familiar to you at all?'

Anya bent down next to him.

'I can think of at least half a dozen demons that could leave marks like that,' she replied. 'Without something to compare it with I couldn't say for sure.'

'Agreed.' Giles stood up. 'Well, if there is some kind of monster down here I suggest we retire for now and return when we're better armed.'

There was a chittering sound from deeper within the cavern.

'Do you hear that?' Anya asked, alarmed.

'Back away,' Giles instructed. 'Quietly. We don't want to attract attention.'

The chittering was building. They could hear the scrape of flesh on stone and shapes were now beginning to form in the darkness, shapes that were almost human, but not quite, twisted at angles that hurt the eye.

The things hissed in unison and then dropped from the ceiling, hurling themselves down the tunnel towards Anya and her companions.

'Run!' Giles shouted. 'Run!'

Anya turned to flee, but one of the creatures leaped out in front of her. It hissed at her, exposing its forked tongue. It was completely hairless and its right eye was swollen, trickling down its cheek. Anya backed away and bumped into Giles. He was in retreat from a larger man dressed in rags. Anya could see the usual two legs and two arms, but the lumps beneath the tatters suggested a more than usual complement of limbs. Another creature slithered closed, leaving a trail of slim in its wake. Scar tissue had hardened over its eye sockets. Clacking its long fingernails together, it reached out to stroke Anya's cheek.

And then its hand was severed at the wrist.

The creatures hissed and wailed. It was like the cats fighting outside of Xander's apartment, only with the volume turned up as high as it would go. Then their attackers fell upon the creatures without mercy.

Anya could not get an accurate count of the golden men. They glowed with such a bright inner light, that she could only watch as long as she squinted. There were at least five, but there could have been as many as twice that number. Whatever, Anya was glad of the way their swords sliced cleanly through the deformed things, glad that was until she realised how easily those same swords would slice through her.

Soon all of the creatures were either dead or had fled, all bar one. That one was cowering against the wall, looking anywhere but at the Tuatha, as if believing that if it could not see them then they could not see it. The tallest of the Tuatha stepped forward and lifted it off of the ground with one hand, a hand that gleamed like highly polished metal.

'Go back to your master, vile thing,' the Tuatha instructed, 'and tell him that I am coming for him. He will pay his debts in blood.'

He dropped the creature to the ground and it scampered away as fast as its legs would carry him.

'Now would be a good time to take our leave,' Giles whispered to Jenny and Anya and the three of them started towards the cave mouth. The Tuatha blocked their way.

'Er, thank you for your assistance,' Giles said, stepping forward so that Anya and Jenny were behind him. 'Much appreciated. However, we really should be going now, if you'd just excuse us.'

The tall Tuatha flicked his wrist and the tip of his sword came to rest by Giles' adam's apple. Giles fought not to swallow.

'I am Nuada of the Silver Hand, King of the Danaans,' the Tuatha announced, 'and I would have words with thee.'


	20. Falling

Chapter Nineteen - Falling

Someone threw water in Buffy's face and she woke with a start. She sat up, eyes darting from side to side, taking in her surroundings. She was underground in a cavern the size of a football field. The misshapen creatures that had attacked them earlier were everywhere, scuttling over the walls, floor and ceiling like insects. They were talking to each other in that strange clickerty-clack language of theirs and it was giving Buffy a headache. In the centre of the room was a large, black pit.

'Where am I?' she asked.

As one, the creatures rose up on their legs and stared at her. Buffy's skin went cold. The closest one crept forward, red eyes glowing, as it reached for her with long, gnarly fingers. Buffy backed away. Her captors had neglected to tie her up and she could tell by the weight in her boot that she was still armed. That was sloppy, but these things didn't give the impression of being very smart, just very numerous.

She stumbled backwards into the arms of another of the creatures. Its flesh was like mouldy cheese and its skin flaked off in her hands as she pushed it away. She stepped away, more cautiously this time, flicking bits of the creature of her fingers as she did so.

'Willow? Tara?' Buffy called. 'You here?'

There was a muffled moan and Buffy turned to locate the source. Tara and Willow were lying on the floor, trussed up in cocoons like flies in a spider's web. Their heads poked out of the top, but they had been gagged and blindfolded.

The room suddenly went quiet. The monsters all cocked their heads to one side as if listening for something. Then they all scattered to the sides of the cavern like waves of darkness.

Buffy stood her ground.

A tall man strode imperiously into the cavern. He must have been seven or eight feet tall at least. He wore a long black robe that completely masked his shape and had a hood that was pulled so low that Buffy could not make out his face. In spite all of that, however, she could tell that he was glowing.

Buffy realised that she had stopped breathing and had to really focus to start forcing air into her lungs again. It was like the hooded man was the only thing in the room, the only thing in the world, and nothing else mattered.

'I am sorry for what we had to do to your friends,' the man said. His voice was warm and soft, like a caress. Or a kiss. 'They torched three of my people. Witches are too dangerous to leave unbound.'

'Yeah, well I'm dangerous, too,' Buffy announced.

In one smooth movement, she drew the knife from her boot and lunged at him. The man caught the knife in his hand and snapped the blade in two.

'No,' he said, 'you're not.'

Buffy's heart hammered within her chest. He was so close to her now that their bodies were practically touching and she was very aware of his presence. What was wrong with her? She hadn't reacted this way to a man sincewell, since Angel, and maybe not even then.

'I am Bres,' the man said, his voice causing the hairs on the back of Buffy's neck to stand on end, 'and these are my people. You were looking for us.'

'They don't look much like your people,' Buffy rasped, her throat dry.

Bres laughed and Buffy felt giddy as the energy of it washed over her.

'No, that they do not,' Bres conceded. 'They are the Fomorii and they took me in when my own kind made the mistake of turning against me. I am their lord and master now.'

There was a long drawn and silence and Buffy had to fight not to stare at Bres. He seemed completely serene and relaxed, but Buffy was wound tight. Finally, she could stand it no longer.

'I'm Buffy,' she said, breaking the silence.

'I know,' Bres replied. 'You are the Slayer. It is always a pleasure to meet a fellow warrior.'

He lingered over the word 'pleasure' in a way that made Buffy distinctly uncomfortable.

'You want something,' he said.

'No I don't,' Buffy said hastily. Too hastily.

'Come, Slayer, we are both warriors,' Bres responded. 'Deception does not suit us.'

'I'm not' Buffy began, then thought better of it. 'I want you to stop killing people and get out of my town,' she said. 'And I want my sister back.'

'In that order?' Bres mocked. 'You are a very practical young woman, Slayer.'

Buffy blushed.

'Don't change the subject,' she insisted. 'So, are you going to get out or do we throw down right here?'

Then she thought about what she the heat in her cheeks flared all the more.

'I don't think either of us wishes to fight, Slayer,' Bres replied. 'I would hate to have to kill you.'

'You're so sure of yourself, aren't you?' Buffy retorted.

'Yes,' Bres said simply. 'I am. I am also more than happy to give you what you desire, once you have given me what I came here for. Where is the Cauldron?'

'I don't know what you're talking about,' Buffy said. She folded her arms across her chest, hoping to look defiant, but fearing she only appeared defensive.

'Of course you do, Slayer,' Bres replied. 'The Fay assured me that the it was here.'

'Then I guess you must have been lied to,' Buffy told him. 'Sorry you've had a wasted trip. Don't let the door hit you on the way out.'

'I do not think so,' Bres said.

'Yeah, well maybe I don't care what you think,' Buffy said. Was she sounding petulant?

'I think that you will,' Bres told her. 'Watch.'

He stepped away from her and turned to regard the Fomorii, his people. He raised his arms over his head and clapped his hand. The sound echoed around the cavern.

'Bring the offering,' Bres said.

Two Fomorii led a third to the edge of the pit. Then they began to tie ropes around his arms and his legs. Buffy could see that the ropes were connected to a pulley fixed in the ceiling and that a half-dozen other Fomorii were holding on to the other end of the ropes.

'What are they doing to him?' Buffy asked. 'And shouldn't he be, like, struggling or something.'

'Why should he struggle,' Bres replied, 'when he is about to meet his god?'

The two Fomorii finished securing the ropes and then stepped away. The other Fomorii began to walk slowly backwards, hauling their comrade up off of the ground and swinging him out over the pit.

Then they held him there.

'I do hope that you are paying attention,' Bres said to Buffy before clapping his hands once again.

The Fomorii holding the ropes started to walk forward and the bound Fomorii was slowly lowered into the darkness.

'Wh-what's going to happen to him?' Buffy asked as the creature disappeared from sight.

'He is going to look his god in the eye,' Bres replied.

A scream tore out of the pit.

'What the -' 

Buffy tried to lunge forward, but Bres had a hand on her shoulder, holding her in place. She turned on him.

'Whatever that thing is down there,' she said, 'it's killing him.'

'Wrong,' Bres replied. 'It's already killed him.'

Without waiting for a signal, the Fomorii hauled the ropes back out of the pit. The only sign of their comrade was the black slime dripping slowly from the rope.

'Why?' Buffy asked.

'Think of it as a demonstration,' Bres explained. He turned back to the Fomorii. 'Take one of the witches and bind her. The red will do.'

The Fomorii scuttled across to Willow and began to truss her up. 

'No!' Buffy screamed, but Bres' grip was strong and, despite her struggles, she was held firmly in place.

'Remove her blindfold,' Bres instructed the Fomorii.

Willow blinked against the light as the rag was torn away. Relief washed over her as she spotted Buffy, rapidly replaced by terror as the Fomorii around her continued to paw over her. She wriggled in her bonds, but could not prevent herself from being lifted high up over the pit. She looked down and her eyes went wide. The gag in her mouth muffled her scream.

'So, Slayer,' Bres asked Buffy, 'are you going to tell me where I can find the Cauldron before or after I lower your friend into the pit?'


	21. Crossroads

Chapter Twenty - Crossroads

For what seemed like the hundredth time, Xander brushed his sodden hair out of his eyes. He could have stayed in the car, he supposed, but they had been driving around for hours and his need to get some air had far outweighed the inconvenience of the steady rain.

His companions had all opted for the dry alternative. Liz and Suzi were sitting in the front talking softly to one another. They were keeping their voices low so as not to disturb Spike who was stretched out in the back (well, as much as was possible in the rental car) hiding from the daylight under a blanket. Xander glanced up at the sky. It wasn't like there was a lot of daylight to hide from, but he supposed Spike was of the opinion that he was better safe than sorry.

It had been a difficult afternoon. They had pulled up in front of the hotel just long enough for Suzi and Spike to throw themselves inside before tearing away again. Then they had driven around haphazardly, choosing directions at random, always alert for signs of pursuit, but, finally, they were convinced that they were not being followed. Which was when the arguments started.

They needed a plan. At present, they were travelling without direction, but, with the fate of the world at stake, that had to change and soon. But who was supposed to make that decision? Liz and Suzi were here as a favour to Giles and more than willing to follow the lead of the Sunnydale posse. Spikewell, nobody was going to listen to Spike even if he had bothered to contribute to the discussion. And Riley was missing in action.

Which left Xander.

_Who am I kidding_, he thought to himself. _I'm no leader. Sure, I might want to be, but when the chips are down, that's where Buffy comes in. Or Giles. Or Riley. Or even Will. Me, I'm right down at the bottom of a very long list. Heck, I probably don't even make it on there._

Why had he even volunteered to come out here? He could have stayed at home with Anya. He would have to be some kind of crazy person to want to fly off on some life and death quest than to stay in Sunnydale in the soft, loving arms (and everything else) of his very beautiful girlfriend.

This was Riley's mission. Riley Finn, secret agent. With the strength and the gadgets and just the all-round cool, Riley was everything Xander wanted to be (well, except for the bit about his boss creating Frankenstein's monster, but who didn't have at least one psychopathic woman in their past, right?) and part of him resented him for that. But it was a small part. Riley was one of the good guys and, more importantly, a friend. And he was trained for this sort of thing.

'You okay?' Liz asked. She was walking round the car to join him.

'Just thinking about Riley,' Xander replied, 'and how he would have Plans A to K all worked out by now. Why don't you go back in the car? You're getting all wet out here.'

'Suzi is best taken in small doses,' Liz replied, 'and I'm not the only one getting wet.'

'You know, there are some people who'd tell you I was a bit wet already,' Xander joked half-heartedly.

'That I can't imagine,' Liz told him. 'You're not feeling sorry for yourself out here, are you?'

'Maybe a little,' Xander confessed. 'I'm just wondering why I'm even here. It's not like I have any useful skills to contribute. Even Spike has more right to be here than I do.'

'But I wouldn't trust Spike to watch my back,' Liz pointed out. 'You came because you're friends needed you and loyalty is not a trait to be sniffed at.'

'I guess not,' Xander mused, standing maybe a little taller. 'But I guess you'd know all about that, seeing as you're only here because Giles asked you.'

'Rupert and I go back a long way,' Liz explained. 'I owe him.'

'Sounds like there's a story there,' Xander remarked.

Liz turned away, her hair falling in front of her face.

'There was a scandal,' she began. 'It's not important.'

They stood in silence, watching as the streetlights flickered into life.

'He's not going to be able to find us,' Liz said at last. 'Riley, I mean.'

'I know,' Xander replied. 'And they'll be waiting for us back at the hotel so we can't go back for him.'

'Riley seems like the kind of bloke who can take care of himself,' Liz consoled him.

'He is that,' Xander agreed, 'and he knows we're going to be heading to Tintagel so if he doesn't find us at the hotel he'll probably go looking for us there.'

'Be a shame if we weren't there to meet him,' Liz continued.

'Then I guess we'd better get moving,' Xander replied, starting for the car.

'See, this decision-making lark isn't so hard after all, is it?' Liz said as she followed him.

* * *

It took them an age to get out of London. They got snared up with the commuter traffic heading home and Xander was left in no doubt that for a long stretch it would have been quicker to walk. Spike spent the whole time complaining because they would not let him smoke in the car. Xander kept expecting Suzi to threaten to stake him again, but she did not. In desperation, Xander turned on the car's radio and eventually came across a station both Liz and Spike liked and he did not mind so much. Suzi hated it and said so loudly, claiming it was too old, but everyone else ignored her.

_Some heroes we are_, Xander mused to himself. _We'll be lucky if we don't tear each other's throats out before we get where we're going. If the four of us are responsible for the fate of the world, it's time to go looking for a new world._

The going got a lot easier once they got out on to the M4. The rain was still falling, but it was not heavy enough to cause them any problems. Spike took it upon himself to keep them all amused by regaling them with stories of his adventures in the various places they were passing, which even Xander had to admit were entertaining at first. Unfortunately, all of the stories seemed to end in horrible and bloody death and, after just a few of these, Spike was prevailed upon to keep his reminiscences to himself.

'Do you think he'll be okay?' Suzi asked at one point.

'Who?' Xander asked. He had been drifting off to sleep and had to shake himself back to wakefulness.

'Your friend,' Suzi replied, 'you know, secret agent man.'

'Thought that would be a bit before your time, sweetheart,' Spike said with a smirk. Suzi just glared at him.

'He'll be fine,' Xander told Suzi as if Spike had not spoken. Xander hoped he was not lying to the Slayer-in-training. He did not even want to think about what he would say to Buffy if anything did happen to Riley.

'Sure he will,' Spike added. 'If even Xander over there can get the better of the evil empire then Captain Cardboard should have no problem.'

'Hey!' Xander protested. Then he tapped the side of his head. 'Riley got the better of you, didn't he?'

Spike scowled.

'It's just a temporary setback,' he declared. 'When I get this bloody chip out I'll'

Suzi coughed pointedly.

'be a well-behaved monster who's nice to fluffy bunnies and the like,' Spike concluded.

'There's a good widdle vampire,' Xander taunted before turning away.

But making fun of Spike could not quell the ache in the pit of his stomach. What _had_ happened to Riley?

* * *

At Bristol, they joined the M5 heading south and it was at this point that Suzi started to complain that she was hungry. Xander's put-down died in his throat as he realised that he was too.

'Is there anywhere we can stop?' he asked Liz. 'You know, for Suzi's benefit.'

'I think we could all use a bit of a break,' Liz replied with a smile. 'There's a motorway services coming up in a few miles. I'll pull in there.'

Sure enough, about ten minutes later they were entering a car park. Then, having found a space, they ran to the main building to get out of the rain. Xander felt that the place looked like a greenhouse, but with less foliage and more newsagents. There was a small video arcade near the entrance where a small kid was playing some kind of beat-em-up game. His mother stood nearby, arms wrapped about her as if she were cold, while her eyes glanced furtively at anyone who walked by. Xander offered her a weak smile and she looked away.

There was a self-service cafeteria at the rear of the building. It was decorated in a yellow and brown colour scheme that Xander found repellent, but, as he got closer, he could not deny the attraction of the aroma of food.

'I'll be outside if anyone wants me,' Spike announced.

'You'll what?' Xander responded.

'It's not as if I'm hungry,' Spike pointed out, 'at least, not for anything they're likely to be serving, and outside I might be able to finally have a smoke.'

'And you think we're just going to let you wander about on your lonesome,' Xander retorted.

'Get a bloody clue, would you,' Spike shot back. 'Where would I go.'

Xander scowled and Spike rolled his eyes.

'Look, I'm going outside,' he said. 'If you want to come and keep an eye on me, that's up to you. Frankly, I couldn't give a toss one way or another.'

The vampire spun on his heel and stalked away. Xander started after him, but Liz put a hand on his arm.

'Leave him,' she said. 'He's just trying to wind you up.'

'I know,' Xander admitted. 'I just wish he wasn't so damn good at it.'

The remaining three of them entered the cafeteria, filled a tray with food and then went to sit at a table by the window. Xander turned to peer through the glass.

'Do you reckon we can see him from here,' he said. 'I don't like the idea of no one keeping an eye on Spike.'

'Will you relax,' Liz said. 'It's not like anything's going to happen here.'

Then a voice caused Xander to practically jump out of his seat.

'Don't turn around,' the voice said.


	22. I'm With You

Chapter Twenty-One - I'm With You

'Riley?' Xander said.

He started to turn.

'I said don't turn around,' Riley said, his voice soft, but with the authority of a cracked whip. 'Act like I'm not here.'

'But' Xander began.

Liz cut him off.

'How did you find us?' she asked.

'I put a homing device on Spike,' Riley explained. 'You didn't think I was just going to let him roam free, did you?'

'Was that one of your Q-Branch toys?' Xander asked.

'One of what?' Suzi asked. She was sitting at the opposite side of the table and could see Riley from where she was. Or at least, she assumed it was Riley. He was so muffled in hat, scarf and worn grey overcoat that it could have been anybody nursing that steaming mug of tea.

'A friend gave me a few welcoming presents when we arrived at the airport,' Riley explained. 'Speaking of which, have you still got my case?'

'It's in the car,' Xander replied.

'Get it for me,' Riley said.

'I'll go,' Suzi said. 'I need to stretch my legs anyway.'

Her chair scraped noisily on the floor as she stood up.

'Watch yourself,' Riley advised her. 'We're not alone.'

* * *

There was a knot of tension between Suzi's shoulder blades. A big knot. She hated being cooped up and she hated the waiting. If the bad guys were here then why weren't they doing anything about it. She reached inside her jacket and brushed the hilt of one of her knives with the back of her hands. The sensation was comforting, soothing. Holding the knife would have been better, but she left it where it was. That sort of thing attracted the wrong kind of attention. Well, the kind of attention her Watcher didn't like, at any rate. 

She popped open the boot and retrieved Riley's briefcase. It was heavier than it looked and she wondered what might be in there. She closed the lid of the boot and set the case down on top of it, ready to open the latches.

She hesitated. The car park was deathly quiet. Even the wind was nothing more than a whisper. But she had heard something, she was sure. Something like the beating of wings.

She pulled out her knives, not caring who saw. Something was wrong. Weren't Slayer's supposed to have some kind of sixth sense for danger? So maybe she was not a Slayer yet, but still, that didn't mean she did not have some intuition, right?

She scanned the car park. Nothing moved. Strangely, that was not reassuring. At least if Suzi had been able to see it then she would have been able to hit it. As it was

As it was, she was seeing ghosts.

A woman stood beside the rental car, a disapproving look plastered across her face as she looked down at Suzi.

Suzi's heart leaped into her throat.

'Mummy,' she croaked.

* * *

'What do you mean 'we're not alone'?' Xander asked.

'You're being followed again,' Riley explained.

'How can you be so sure?' Liz whispered back.

'Because I've been following them following you,' Riley responded. 'And would you please eat something. It looks suspicious you just staring at your food.'

'Well, I'm sorry,' Liz snapped back, 'but you kind of spoiled my appetite.'

'How did they find us?' Xander asked. 'I thought we lost them.'

'I'm sure you did,' Riley assured him. 'Best guess, they got the license plate of your car from the rental company, then set people to look out for it. That's how I would have done it.'

'So we ditch the car,' Xander reasoned.

'First we have to ditch whoever's following us,' Liz pointed out.

'Leave that to me,' Riley said.

* * *

'Hello, Susan,' Suzi's mother said.

'Mummy?' Suzi began hesitantly. 'But I thought'

'Yes, well, don't strain yourself, dear,' Suzi's mother remarked dismissively. 'I must say, I don't think much to your wardrobe. Or to your hair. I can't see that being acceptable at that nice public school we paid to send you to.'

Suzi opened and closed her mouth a few times. There were so many things she wanted to say, but she could not form the words.

'Oh, please do stop pretending to be a goldfish, Susan,' he mother scolded her. 'I can see that I'm going to have to take you in hand. Again.'

'Butbut you died,' Suzi said. 'I saw him kill you. Hehe made me watch.'

'Ah, so it does talk,' Suzi's mother remarked with a raised eyebrow. 

'And then I' Suzi choked back a sob. 'Then I killed you again.'

'Yes, not exactly the sort of behaviour a mother wants to encourage from her only daughter. Still, that's all water under the bridge now. We can be together again, Susan, with your help.'

'Me?' Suzi asked. 'What can I do?'

'Munchkin? Are you all right?'

Suzi glanced round. Spike was hurrying towards her, cigarette hanging from his lips. She turned back to face her mother, but she was gone.

'You made her go away!' Suzi shouted as she whirled on Spike.

'Hey, hold on a second, pet,' Spike said. 'Made who go away? You were standing there talking to yourself.'

'Don't say anything,' the voice of Suzi's mother echoed in her ears. 'They wouldn't understand. It can be our little secret.'

'It doesn't matter,' Suzi told Spike as she hefted the briefcase off of the car. 'Riley wanted me to get this for him.'

'Soldier-boy's here?' Spike said. 'Well isn't he just full of surprises.'

'Yeah, he's just terrific,' Suzi muttered.

'Do I take it you don't much like the guy?' Spike asked, savouring his cigarette.

'Give me that,' Suzi said, snatching the cigarette from the vampire.

'You smoke?' Spike asked, surprised.

'Don't tell me that shocks a big tough creature of the night like you?' Suzi shot back before taking a drag on the cigarette. Then she doubled over, choking.

'You don't smoke, do you, munchkin,' Spike remarked, taking back his cigarette.

'How can you stand those things?' Suzi asked, eyes watering.

'Acquired taste,' Spike replied. 'And what about you, with the smoking and the drinking and the clothes? Don't think I can't see right through you. So tell me, why the act?'

'It's not an act,' Suzi insisted.

'Really?'

'It's not,' she persisted. 'It's who I am. Who I am now, anyway.'

'Let me guess,' Spike said, his voice softening, 'since your folks died?'

'Since I killed them,' Suzi corrected.

'Traumatic events change a person,' Spike remarked. 'Believe me, I know.' He offered her the cigarette again. 'Fancy another go?' Suzi waved it away. 'Probably wise.'

'For the record, it's not that I don't like him,' Suzi said. 'Riley, that is?'

'Wouldn't blame you if you didn't,' Spike put in.

'I just can't stand the way Liz fawns over him, Suzi continued. 'Him and Xander.'

'Liz?' Spike repeated. 'Since when did Watcher's go by first names? Isn't that against their code or something?'

'Liz and I are friends,' Suzi said defensively.

'Ah, so that's what this is about,' Spike deduced. 'You're jealous because the new guys are stealing all the attention.'

'I'm being selfish, right?' Suzi said.

Spike put his hands on her shoulders. Instinctively, Suzi flinched away, but only slightly.

'Way I hear it, pet, since you're folksmoved on, that Watcher-woman's been all you've got,' Spike old her. 'Now, I'm a demon, so I'm hardly one to talk about right and wrong, but you ask me, I don't think you're being selfish at all.'

Suzi wiped a hand across her face.

'You all right, munchkin?' Spike asked.

'Just got something in my eye,' Suzi replied.

'If it makes you feel any better, I'm kind of a fifth wheel too,' Spike said.

'It doesn't,' Suzi replied.

'Look, what I'm trying to say is, I know we're never going to be friends,' Spike continued. 'I mean, you represent everything I can't stand and I'm'

'A vampire,' Suzi supplied.

'Exactly,' Spike agreed. 'But we're both in this together and, well, I'll watch your back.'

Suzi scoffed. 'People would pay to watch my back.'

'Don't flatter yourself,' Spike retorted with a crooked smile.

Suzi smiled back, but the smile froze on her face.

'Spike, look out!'

Spike turned just in time to be engulfed in a black cloud. He flailed about wildly, striking out at the thing that was attacking him, but every time he made an impact in the cloud, it just flowed back into place.

'What the bloody hell is this thing?' he shouted.

'They're crows,' Suzi shouted back. 'It's a huge flock of crows.'

'Not a flock,' Spike snarled as he let the monster inside of him loose. 'A murder.'

He tore at the birds with his bare hands, plucking them out of the air and crushing them. But there were just too many of them, pecking and clawing at his clothes and at his flesh.

Then a silver flash tore open a gaping wound in the mass of darkness. Suzi was wading in amidst the crows, whirling like a dervish while her blades scythed through the air.

'What in hell's name do you think you're doing?' Spike demanded.

'Watching your back,' Suzi called back, laughing.

'You're enjoying this, aren't you?' Spike said. 'You really are a girl after my own heart.'

Back to back, Suzi and Spike threw themselves into the fray, both relishing the chance to cut loose. Slowly, they inched towards the steel and glass building where their friends were waiting.

'You ready?' Spike asked Suzi when he felt they were close enough.

'I was born ready,' Suzi replied.

'Oh please,' Spike retorted, rolling his eyes. Then, scooping up the briefcase in one hand and Suzi with the other, the vampire threw himself through the door. He landed badly, twisting his ankle beneath him, but he did not, could not, let that slow him. Instead, he hurled himself back towards the door, slamming it shut just before the birds impacted on the glass.

* * *

'We've got trouble,' Spike announced as he limped into the cafeteria, Suzi supporting him as best she could.

'Have you got the case?' Riley asked, standing up.

'Are you even listening to me?' Spike demanded, throwing the case down upon the table. 

'Oh, I'm listening, all right,' Riley replied, popping open the case.

'Is that a gun?' Xander asked as Riley took something out from inside.

'Oh yes,' Riley replied.

'I mean, it's not a taser or a tranquilliser or anything like that,' Xander continued. 'That's a real gun that fires real bullets.'

Riley slammed a clip into the magazine.

'It's time to take the fight to the enemy,' he said.


	23. Supernatural

Chapter Twenty-Two - Supernatural

'For the last time,' Buffy shouted at Bres, 'I don't know where this Cauldron is.'

'Pity,' Bres said coldly.

Willow strained against her bonds. She could feel them tearing away layers of skin as she writhed, but that was the least of her problems. If she could get her hands free, even just one hand, then maybe she could do something about her predicament. As it was, she hung in the air like a party balloon, with no greater ability to affect her fate.

Buffy, though unbound, looked equally helpless. She was desperate to do something to save her friend, but she had run out of options. Willow's heart went out to her friend and she wished she were not gagged so that she could say some final words of comfort. No, not final. She was not dead yet and while there was life, there was hope. _And if ever there was a good time for hope to make itself known, I would say this was it._

Willow twisted her head searching for Tara, wanting to see her one last time.

_No way. Uh uh. Not last. Absolutely not. Why do I keep saying that?_

She glanced at the pit and tore her gaze away. She so did not want to know what was down there, but now that she had started down that road, she could not stop her imagination from conjuring up the possibilities.

Where was Tara? Please don't let her be…No, there she was. Relief washed over Willow, cleansing her of her fears for just one brief moment. But her relief was tinged with sorrow. Tara was lying on the floor, trussed up in a cocoon, gagged and blindfolded. Willow was going to be denied one final (_again with that word_) moment with her lover. Willow fought back the stinging tears inside her eyes. Maybe it was better this way. At least, Tara would be spared the pain of watching…whatever they had planned for her.

Hold on a minute. Tara _was_ watching.

By scraping the side of her head against the rough stone floor of the cavern, she had managed to work the blindfold away from one eye. Her hair was filthy and mattered and, even from this distance, Willow could make out a nasty gash on Tara's temple. But she could see and she was looking up at Willow.

Except when she was not.

Tara kept looking away from Willow, her attention caught by something else. But what? Was Tara trying to tell her something? She wished that they were powerful enough to communicate with each other using only their thoughts.

Okay then, no magic. So, what was Tara looking at? Buffy? Buffy's feet? Buffy's right boot was an odd shape, like there was something tucked inside there, something other than Buffy's foot. But what could it be? Willow chewed her lower lip in thought. Knowing Buffy, it would have to be a weapon of some kind. A stake, maybe, or…a knife? 

Telekinesis was one of the first skills Willow had learned. Even trussed up like this, she should still be able to float a small knife, but what was she supposed to do with it once it was airborne? It would be a simple matter to sever the rope holding her up, but then she would simply plummet into the pit, which was the one place she was trying to avoid.

However, there were other options.

Willow twisted her head slightly so that she could face Tara and waited until her girlfriend was looking at her again. Then she winked at her, praying that, by some miracle, Tara would get what she was planning.

_Hold still, baby_, Willow thought. _Hold very, very still._

'Lower the witch into the pit,' Bres declared, breaking Willow's train of thought. 'Let her look upon the face of Balor.'

Balor? Willow recognised the name from her researches, but she could not quite place it. 

_This is so not the time_, she scolded herself and, putting the thought from her mind, she concentrated on the knife in Buffy's boot. The knife shot upwards. Its flight path was erratic and unsteady and the blade nicked Buffy's calf as it flew by. _Sorry_, Willow thought, but she could not allow anything to distract her. The knife wove through the crowd of Fomorii like a silver dragonfly, dipping low as it approached Tara. Tara's body tensed and went rigid just as the knife swooped over her, the blade severing the strands of the cocoon that held her immobile.

And then Tara was free, gag and blindfold torn away, hair and skirt billowing around her, eyes flaring like some vengeful spirit. Willow blinked. She was not used to seeing her girlfriend's shy and quiet demeanour so completely submerged like this.

'Willow!' Tara's voice echoed through the cavern and Willow wished that her gag did not prevent her from responding. Then her eyes went wide as flames danced across Tara's skin, outlining her with a flickering halo. Now Willow understood the cause of Tara's transformation. It was a glamour, an illusion to make one appear to be something one was not. But it was only a minor magick. Tara just did not cast particularly powerful spells and when the Fomorii realised this…

One particularly brave creature scuttled forward, dozens of tentacles leading the way.

'Don't touch me!' Tara snapped at it, thrusting out her left hand in the creature's direction. The monster seemed to lose control of its tentacles and, in a spectacular display of poor co-ordination, ended up flat on its face at Tara's feet. Head held high, Tara stepped right over it. She was holding something in her left hand. Willow could not see what it was from where she was hanging, but she knew enough about that particular spell to deduce that thy must be black cat hairs. Or, more likely, black kitten hairs, shed by Miss Kitty Fantastico.

_That's the second time you've saved our lives this week, Miss Kitty_, Willow thought.

Tara strode imperiously towards the edge of the pit. Fomorri charged forward in an attempt to stop her, but, inexplicably, just before they could harm her, each Fomor would trip over its webbed-feet or fumble its weapon. Six Fomorrii surrounded the pit, one holding each of the ropes that held Willow aloft. As one, they turned to face the approaching Wiccan.

'Let her down,' Tara ordered them.

One of the Fomorii stepped towards her, clacking its distended jaws angrily. Tara cupped her hands and a blue glow began to form between them.

'Let her down,' Tara repeated, 'or else.'

Stumbling back, the formerly defiant Fomor began untying the rope it was in charge of. Its fellows followed suit, swinging Willow out over solid ground before starting to lower her.

_Good thing none of these things knows that's just a tiny Tinkerbell light_, Willow mused to herself, _with about as much destructive power as a marshmallow_.

As soon as Willow's feet touched the ground, Tara was at her side, tearing at her bonds. Then they collapsed into each other's arms, dropping to their knees. Willow found herself supporting almost all of her girlfriend's weight. Tara was shaking and very, very pale now. Sweat slid slowly down her face and, up close, that wound on her head looked even worse.

'Are you okay, Will?' Tara whispered.

'I am now,' Willow replied softly. 'Thanks to you.'

Tara nodded and closed her eyes. She was completely spent.

The clack-clack noise that was the Fomorii language filled the air, grating and hostile. Even with their limited intelligence, it had not taken long for them to realise that they had been tricked, that the scary and powerful magic-user was not quite so scary and powerful after all.

They closed in for the kill.

* * *

Buffy started forward, limping slightly because of the wound in her leg.

'Going somewhere, Slayer?' Bres asked.

He had not moved, but his voice alone stopped Buffy in her tracks. She had heard of someone having a magnetic personality, but this was ridiculous.

'My friends are in danger,' Buffy replied through gritted teeth. She refused to turn and face him. She had that much control left, at least.

'They are not the only ones.'

Buffy heard him step closer. No, not so much heard, she felt him. He had an aura that brushed against her skin, invading every pore. She clenched and unclenched her fists. She wanted to turn, to launch her self at him and then…and then?

'Who are you?' she heard someone say. Was that her voice?

'Why not see for yourself?' Bres suggested.

It seemed such a simple request, so reasonable. Buffy fought to stand her ground, but she was turning. Her feet dragged as she did so, but still she turned to face him.

Bres' hands hesitated at the edge of his hood.

'Among my people,' he explained, 'I was known as Bres the Beautiful.'

Then he threw back his hood.

'Look upon my works, ye mighty, and despair.'

Buffy could not breathe. She was looking into the face of Riley Finn. No, now it was Pike. And then she could see Angel and her heart skipped a beat. The features kept shifting, kept morphing. Sometimes she recognised something familiar, other times the face was completely new, but always it was perfect, calling to her, reeling her in with the hook that was caught in her heart. It drew her in as the Sirens snared the ancient mariners.

She was lost.


	24. Come Away With Me

Chapter Twenty-Three - Come Away With Me

__

_The waves in anger 'pon the shore did crash_

_Venting their fury and frustration on_

_Those sands across which just before fair Nimue's_

_Feet had passed and would ne'er touch again._

__

_A bird, in black on white plumage arrayed,_

_Cried out in anguish. For the heart that beat_

_The rhythmic drum beneath its noble breast_

_Ached with the knowledge, foul as such was true,_

_That Nimue on the birds had gazed her last._

__

_And flowers bowed their fragrant heads in shame_

_Since, ignorant of the treachery in store,_

_They had in great affection brushed against_

_The feet of he who now held Nimue._

__

_Within the cave, a light parted the gloom,_

_The radiance of that traitor Bres himself._

_Enraptured by this luminescence, she,_

_The lady Nimue, carried in her heart_

_Such singing, blind was she to dangers that_

_Were masked behind her comrade's perfect face._

__

_Bres the beauteous, of golden countenance,_

_Stretched out his hand. Without a single doubt,_

_Her fragile hand in his did Nimue trust._

_He pulled her close, as if to grant a kiss,_

_The lady Numue unresisting still,_

_And then he slit her throat._

* * *

'Buffy!' Giles shouted as he pulled back the string on his bow. The longbow was not his weapon of choice, but he was grateful for whatever the Tuatha could provide. He just hoped he could remember the training he had received during his time at the Council.

He let fly the arrow and it sped straight and true, impaling itself threw Bres' upper arm. The enemy general cried out in pain and his attention was torn away from his quarry. Buffy stumbled away, disorientated.

Giles had been briefed on Bres' abilities by Nuada before the assault, so he kept his eyes averted as he fitted another arrow to his string.

'Jenny, help Buffy,' he commanded.

'But' Jenny began.

'Just go,' Giles snapped, glancing up just long enough to loose his shot. Then he turned to Jenny, his voice softening. 'Please. I wouldn't trust anyone else.'

Jenny sighed, then turned and scrambled down the slope, kicking up scree as she did so. She held a sword uncomfortably in her right hand. Jenny, despite her love for contact sports was not a natural combatant herself, but, under the circumstances, it was much better to be armed than not.

Giles watched her go. He nearly cried out, called her back. It felt like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water in his face, that sudden cold terror that he might lose her again. He had forgotten just how important she was to him. He had never felt any less than whole before he had met her, but every day since she had been taken from him, he had felt like he was missing a piece of his soul. The fact that he noticed it less and less - or got better at ignoring it - as the months turned into years did not make it any less true. But he kept silent and he hated himself for doing so.

His gaze moved on and settled on Nuada. Nuada of the Silver Hand, King of the Tuatha de Danaan. He was in the thick of the fighting, broadsword clasped in the metal hand that moved like flesh. Nuada was not a leader who would ask his people to do something he was not prepared to do himself. In the short time he had known him, Nuada had impressed Giles as both an inspired tactician and as a man of honour. Giles had to keep reminding himself that, however well-spoken the king might be, his honour only extended to his own. Nuada was not human and he considered humans to be little more than insects compared to his people and he would treat them as such.

Still, for the moment at least, they needed each other.

Giles spun round when he heard an angry clacking sound burst from behind him. One of the Fomorri had scrambled up the slope behind him. It held a rusted mace in its left hand. Its right arm, partly hidden beneath its tattered cloak, was twisted like a gnarled branch. It swung the mace. Hard. 

Giles twisted to avoid the worst of the blow, but still caught a glancing strike on his temple. He staggered back, the world spinning around him. Not trusting his sight, Giles shut his eyes and lashed out with his bow at where his brain told him the Fomor must be. The end of the bow connected with something soft and he heard the creature cry out in pain. Giles risked opening one eye. He still felt as if he were riding a ship in a storm, but things were beginning to settle. The Fomor was tumbling down the slope, having lost its footing when Giles hit it. However, Giles could already see three of its fellows hurrying to replace it.

Nuada had not wanted to fight this battle. The Fomor greatly outnumbered the Tuatha and this was their territory. Strategically, this skirmish was a disaster. But Giles had insisted that they rescue Buffy and the others. It was part of the devil's bargain he had struck.

* * *

Buffy staggered away woozily. The wound in her calf throbbed and her leg refused to support her weight, causing her to fall to one knee amid the dirt. Faces raced across her vision. She wanted to say something, to speak to them, but she could not form words. She reached out a hand, but the apparitions were like smoke in the wind.

This was not real. Buffy tried to focus on that, to rebuild her perception around that one known fact. He had done something to her, something that was playing with her senses. It reminded her a little of the effect Dracula had had on her. Well she had dusted him easily enough and she was sure she would do the same to Bres. Just as soon as she figured out which way was up.

Something was approaching her, a hazy silhouette amid the swirling colours and the pretty lights. It was a woman, she deduced, squinting, a woman she recognised. A woman she knew could not be real.

Buffy lashed out with both fists, the impact knocking Jenny off of her feet and throwing her against the cavern wall.

'Buffy,' Jenny gasped, a hand clasped against her ribs, 'it's me. Jenny.'

'Can't be,' Buffy replied simply, struggling to get to her feet. 'You're not real. You died.'

'So did you,' Jenny responded, herself making no effort to get up.

'That was different,' Buffy insisted. She certainly looked like Jenny, Buffy admitted to herself, but that was the point, surely. This was just some more of that guy's head games. But what if it wasn't?

'I'm sorry,' Jenny said. 'I'm sorry about what happened with Angelwith Angelus.'

Buffy tried not to react, but her gaze wavered, if only for an instant. Angel had died to, at Buffy's own hand, but he had come back. Was that what had happened to Jenny? She did not look like she had spent years trapped in a hell dimension. In fact, she looked just as Buffy remembered from the last time she had seen her, the day Angelus had

'You're sorry,' Buffy repeated, blocking out her own train of thought.

'I wish there had been another way,' Jenny insisted.

'You really think there wasn't another way?' Buffy demanded. 'You really couldn't come up with anything better than taking away his soul?'

'Do you want to hit me again?' Jenny asked, raising her own voice to match Buffy's, refusing to be stared down by the Slayer. 'Would that make you feel better? Well save it, because right now, we don't have the time.'

'The lady doth speak true,' a golden-skinned man insisted. Buffy had not even heard him approach. 'We dare not tarry any longer.'

'He's with me,' Jenny explained. Buffy frowned sceptically, so she added, 'And Giles.'

'What about Willow and Tara?' Buffy asked, shaking off the man's attentions.

'Others are seeing to their aid,' the man continued, a note of urgency in his musical voice. 'It is most dangerous for us to remain here. The Fomorii far outstrip our numbers. We must withdraw and seek fresh council.'

'I don't like running away,' Buffy muttered. Now that her head had cleared, Buffy found that part of her still wanted Bres, but now she wanted to hurt him for what he had done to her.

'There is no shame in retreating before a superior force, my lady,' the golden man persisted. 'My blade longs to taste Fomorii flesh, but it should be at a time and place of our choosing, not theirs.'

'Fine,' Buffy finally conceded, 'but that rematch better be soon.'

The golden man eased forward, offering his arm to Jenny, but Buffy interceded, scooping the former teacher up into her own arms.

'I didn't know you cared,' Jenny remarked.

'I just want you where I can see you,' Buffy replied.

* * *

Bres roared, but it was not because of the pain in his arm. The arrow still protruded from his flesh, but Bres made no move to remove it. His blood boiled in anger as he watched the people who had cast him out invading his sanctuary. And that most hated figure of all, Nuada the King, the usurper, was in the thick of it. They would pay, he swore. They would suffer a thousand deaths for the indignities they had heaped upon him.

He turned to those of his followers that were still grouped around the pit.

'Raise Balor,' he commanded.


	25. Goodbye To You

Chapter Twenty-Four - Goodbye To You

Balor stirred.

It sensed that something was happening, something different, and the thrill of anticipation stirred its blood like nothing had in centuries. How it knew this was unclear, for time had dulled all of the beast's conventional senses. Its skin had toughened and callused to the point where it could not even feel the coarse ropes bound around it and it was nearly blind in its single large eye.

Nevertheless, One-Eyed Balor, the Destroyer, was eager.

Balor was one of the Fomorii, the greatest of its kind. It was a creature of such power that it was worshipped by its own people as a god. Once, it had been a great ruler, leading its people in their eternal conflict with their oppressors, the Tuatha de Danaan, but it seemed that even gods were not immune to time's tender mercies. The monster had lost none of its strength, but now it was so bloated and deformed as to be unable to move under its own power. It had lost none of its anger, its appetite for destruction, but its mind was addled so that it was now without direction, except for that given to it by others.

Balor had become a danger to its own kind and so it had been thrown into a deep pit, from which it could not escape. Still it was worshipped, for its power still held the rest of the Fomorii in awe, but now it was idolised from afar. But there were a few, a rare few, who thought of Balor and saw it as something other than a god and as something more than just a threat. They saw it as a weapon.

And so, every few centuries, Balor would be awakened.

* * *

Willow held Tara in her arms, gently rocking her back and forth.

'It's okay, baby,' she whispered. 'You rest now. Everything's gonna be all right.'

Tara looked up at Willow, her head resting on the smaller woman's shoulder, but her gaze seemed to be reaching out from much farther away. Willow attempted a reassuring smile in return, but there was no warmth behind it. She tried to act big and tough and brave, but she was trembling like a leaf in the breeze. There was no way out. The cavern was crawling with the monsters, the Fomorii. They were all around her, angry at being deceived at hungry for revenge. And Tara, spent and injured, had only Willow to defend her.

Willow raised her hands and muttered a few words in Latin. A hedge of brambles grew up out of the dry ground to form a barrier between the witches and the Fomorii, but it was a futile one for the charging creatures snapped the brambles like toothpicks, barely slowing.

Willow searched her pockets for spell components. She remembered bringing some with her, just in case, but now her pockets were empty. They must have been lost when she had been held captive. In desperation, Willow scooped up a handful of dust off of the floor and flew it high in the air, chanting as she did so. A thick grey cloud swirled into being around them, obscuring them from sight.

'C'mon, Tara,' Willow hissed, 'we've got to move. It's time to be elsewhere.'

And right about now, Willow was really wishing she had worked more on that teleportation spell. As it was, hopefully the darkness would cover them while they made their escape. If they could not see them…

Willow froze. She could hear sniffing and lots of it.

If they couldn't see them then, Willow guessed, the Fomorii would rely on their other senses.

And they weren't the only ones with other sense, Willow thought as she wrinkled her nose. They must have been practically on top of them. She could not see them, but Willow could imagine them standing above her, claws dripping with ichor, rusty swords at the ready.

'I'm sorry,' she whispered to Tara.

'No…' Tara began.

'But, but it's not fair,' Willow continued, cutting Tara off. 'There's so much we've never had a chance to do. So much I wanted to say. And…and…'

'Shh.' Tara reached up and cupped Willow's cheek in her hand. 'You never had to say anything. Not to me.'

A hot tear trickled down Willow's cheek. She wanted to wipe it away before it got Tara's hand yet, but she could not move.

'At least we're together,' Tara continued.

Willow smiled and leaned forward towards where she believed Tara to be, ready to meet her lips with her own for one final kiss. 

A hand shoved her roughly to the ground.

'Stay down,' a man ordered. Metal sang and the sound of tearing flesh mingled with harsh death cries.

'What the…'

'They're with me,' a familiar voice explained. 'Can you do something about the lights?'

'Anya?' Willow's mouth fell open in disbelief as she waved away the darkness spell.

'Well I hope you didn't think I was just going to leave you down here, did you?' Anya said indignantly.

'The thought never crossed my mind,' Willow replied.

'Who are you friends?' Tara asked, struggling to sit up. Around her the Tuatha were holding the horde of Fomorii at bay.

'I wouldn't call them friends exactly,' Anya replied. She frowned. 'Actually, I wouldn't call them friends at all. But Giles seems to think we need their help and you know how he gets when someone dares to point out that if you play with fire you're bound to get burned sooner or later. I just hope I'm around to see it because I think I've earned my right to say I've told you so. Or maybe I'd rather be elsewhere if there's going to be, you know, burning and such. What do you think?'

'I think we should withdraw,' one of the Tuatha interrupted. 'Now.'

'Who died and put you in charge?' Anya demanded.

Nuada raised his silver hand.

'Oh,' Anya said. 'Well, I guess there's that.' She turned to Willow. 'He's the king.'

'Really?' Willow asked. 'I m-mean, it's an honour to meet you, your m-majesty. Majesty? Is that right? It's not like I've ever met a king before and, you know, wow and all.'

'We must go,' Nuada repeated patiently.

'Oh,' Willow remarked vaguely. Then she nodded purposefully. 'Yes, of course. Sure. But, there's Tara and, well, I don't really know if she's up to, like, walking just yet.'

'I'll manage,' Tara insisted, but she was having trouble regaining her footing.

'Here,' Nuada said, 'please allow me to assist you.' He scooped Tara up into his arms like a baby. 'Now may we leave?'

'Lead on, your majesty,' Willow replied magnanimously.

Nuada took one step, then stopped. It was as if time had halted. Everyone and everything within the cavern had halted and there was a moment of total silence. Then, as one, they all turned to face the pit and the creature slowly being winched out of it.

Buffy lunged towards her friend, but the Tuatha next to her held her in place. It did not matter. The distance was too far and the time was too short.

'Nuada!' Bres roared. 'Self-styled king! Feel my wrath.'

'Dear Lord,' Giles muttered at the sight of the monster emerging from below the ground. He let fly an arrow, but it bounced off the monster's thick hide.

'Balor,' Nuada whispered in recognition.

'Please no,' Anya begged, falling to one knee. 'Not here. Not now. Not again.'

From across the cavern, Jenny stretched out her hand towards Willow, her mouth open in a silent scream.

Balor opened its single yellowy eye and looked at the red-haired witch.

'Willow!' Tara screamed, her lungs bursting.

Willow's lower lip trembled and she opened her mouth to say something.

And then she was gone.


End file.
